As Clara turned away from her door, her apology lingering in the air, Ethan, with a subtle yet lingering touch, traced his hand down from her cheeks to her neck. His fingers danced along her skin, leaving a trail of anticipation. When his hand settled on Clara's breast, her eyes, teary but filled with a myriad of emotions, met his gaze.
"Ethan?" Clara's voice wavered, caught between vulnerability and desire. In that moment, she found herself captivated by the enigmatic presence of Ethan Carter, the one who stood at the intersection of darkness and passion.
"Yes? How do you plan to atone for your sins against me?" Ethan's voice held a magnetic intensity as he held Clara's gaze, the unspoken tension weaving a tapestry of possibilities.
"I have neighbors; can we take it to my apartment?" Clara's suggestion hung in the air, a pragmatic acknowledgment of the boundaries they were navigating.
