The hunger.
I smirked, teasing him, letting the tension coil between us. Letting him watch as I slid closer, inch by inch, my body betraying my mind’s futile attempts at restraint.
The moment we met, there was no going back.
And I didn’t want to.
Not when it felt this raw.
This real.
But just when I thought I had him—just when I thought he’d let me win this round—he pulled back.
Regaining control.
A wicked thrill shot through me because I already knew—
The more he resisted and held back, the more I wanted him to break.
Reich was the kind of man who would make you beg for what you wanted.
And tonight?
I was ready to plead until he pleaded with me.
His eyes locked onto mine, dark and unrelenting.
He knew.
He knew exactly what he was doing to me.
And I was powerless to resist.
He leaned back, exuding a quiet, absolute dominance, every movement deliberate, controlled.
His gaze flickered to my face, catching something—some tiny slip in my mask—before I could steady myself.
Before I could pretend, I wasn’t completely undone by him.
And then—he was already moving, threading his fingers through my hair, his grip just tight enough to send a shiver down my spine.
His lips crashed into mine, a kiss that was electric and devastating.
We moved together, tongues dancing on the edge of surrender, teasing, tasting—but never giving in completely.
Never letting go.
When we pulled apart, our breaths mingled in the heavy silence, ragged and uneven.
We were playing with fire.
His fingers traced my cheek, his touch impossibly gentle for a man who kissed like that.
I shivered, my body reacting before I could think.
Before I could stop myself, a sound escaped—a quiet, breathless moan.
Something flickered in his eyes. Triumph. Amusement. Possession.