Shane enters, his face etched with concern. "Krystal? Are you okay?"

I force a smile, but it feels brittle on my face. "Yeah, just tired. How'd it go with your parents?"

"Same old argument. They don't understand why I won't just fall in line with their plans."

I swallow hard, guilt gnawing at my insides. "I'm sorry. I know this is hard for you."

Shane crosses the room, pulling me into his arms. "Hey, none of that. You're worth it, Krystal. You and Ashanti... You know that, right?"

His words, meant to comfort, only twist the knife deeper. I bury my face in his chest, breathing in his scent, trying to memorize every detail of this moment.

Shane's hands roam my body, his touch igniting a fire under my skin. I respond eagerly, desperate to lose myself in him one last time.

So when he takes my hand, pulling me towards the bed, I follow without hesitation.

A soft glow from the bedside lamp fills the room in a romantic glow. I'm hyperaware of every detail—the drapes, the duvel, the smell of his cologne.

His eyes hold mine, an unspoken question hanging between us. I see the desire burning in their blue depths, which mirrors my heart's turmoil.

"Shane—"

He silences me with a kiss, his lips claiming mine. His hands find my waist, pulling me against him as his tongue tangles with mine. I taste the whisky on his tongue and feel the heat of his skin against mine, and I know this is right.

"God, I need you," he growls, his voice hoarse. "I can't get enough of you."

"I'm yours, Kennedy," I whisper against his lips, the words slipping out before I can stop them. And I mean it—I'm his in every way that matters.

There's no gentleness in our movements as we tear at each other's clothes. His hands are everywhere—sliding up my thighs, cupping my breasts, tugging at my hair. My nails dig into his back, leaving red marks in their wake as I cling to him.

I gasp as he lowers me onto the bed, his mouth trailing down my neck, across my collarbone. His touch is everywhere, igniting a fire in my veins. I'm burning up, consumed by the need for more.

More of him, more of us. If only we had more time.

Shane's mouth continues its journey south, his lips closing around my nipple. His tongue flicks over the hardened peak, sending jolts of pleasure straight to my core. I arch into him, my hands tangling in his hair.

His teeth scrape against my sensitive skin, and I cry out, my body thrumming with desire. He moves to my other breast, giving it the same torturous attention.

I writhe beneath him, my hips bucking as I search for friction. Shane chuckles, the sound dark and promising.

"Please," I beg, not caring how desperate I sound.

"So eager," he murmurs, his breath hot against my skin. "But we have all night, Krystal. I'm going to take my time with you."

Shane continues his exploration, his tongue tracing patterns across my stomach. His mouth hovers over my hipbone, and I feel him smile against my skin.

His fingers brush lightly between my thighs, teasing me with promises of what's to come. I'm wet and aching, my body vibrating with need.

How will I live without this? How will I live without him?

"Shane," I whimper, my voice barely more than a whisper.

"What do you want, baby?" he asks, lifting his gaze to meet mine. "Tell me what you need."

"Fuck me, please," I say, my voice cracking.

He shakes his head slowly, his eyes glinting. "No. You're mine tonight, Krystal. All mine. And I'm going to claim every inch of you."

He slides lower, his shoulders spreading me wide. His breath is hot against my center, and I tremble in anticipation.