Chapter Twenty-Eight
"All done," she announced, her voice calm.
"I can see that," He replied with a low, smooth whisper that sent shivers down her spine. His gaze swept over her face, taking in every detail, curve, and shape.
As their gazes locked, the air seemed to thicken, heavy with unsaid emotion. The candlelight danced across her skin, producing a warm, golden glow that highlighted the exquisite features of her face. For a brief while, time seemed to stop, both of them thinking the other was gorgeous.
Oh, time had suspended as they locked eyes, the silence coursing them to have unholy thoughts about the other.
His gaze drifted to her lips, lingering on their curves. Hers followed, also tracing the sharp lines of his jaw.
He leaned forward, his face a few inches from hers. "We're not done yet," he whispered.
He suddenly pushed his chair back, the scraping sound jolting her out of the sensual haze. Standing, he towered over her, his presence commanding.
Still, their locked eyes remained, the tension between them still crackling like electricity.
His hand brushed hers as he picked up the napkin, and he watched, intrigued, as her eyes fluttered closed, her lips parting slightly.
Just a brush of touch. He wanted to do more with her… to her. Her beauty was almost too much to take in, and it sent a slow burn through his veins. Goodness, how it stirred a hunger within him that he couldn't ignore. It left him breathless and wanting and clearly, he could see she felt the same way… at least in that moment.
With tender precision, he gently wiped the corner of her mouth, his fingers grazing her skin. The gesture was intimate and almost possessive.
Her eyes fluttered open again and their eyes met, the connection sparking like a live wire. They both couldn't deny how the air was thickened, heavy with tension and need.
His pupils dilated as he slowly stroked his fingers across her lips. The touch whispered against her skin in a sensual caress. He smelled nice, luring her into a long want… perhaps need.
Her breathing hitched, her lips parting slightly, inviting him in. His eyes dropped to the movement. His focus burned with intensity.
He stopped stroking his fingers, but his hand lingered. His thumb lingered for a while, then began to trace the curve of her lower lip to her chin. The gentle touch wouldn't stop sending shivers through her.
Without breaking eye contact, he leaned in, his lips brushing against hers. The kiss was soft and exploratory.
She didn't pull away, nor did she reciprocate. Instead, she remained still, her lips parted slightly, allowing him access.
His mouth moved slowly, savoring the taste of her. Her eyes drifted closed and her breathing slowed. How he loved that her body was relaxing into the kiss.
He deepened the touch, his tongue tracing the seam of her lips. She didn't resist, but neither did she respond.
Suddenly, he broke away, his eyes locked on hers, searching. "Sorry," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.
But before he could register her response, her fist connected with his jaw, sending his head snapping back.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" he exclaimed, rubbing his jaw.
She stood tall, her eyes blazing. "You kissed me without my permission. It was against my will."
He scowled. "I stopped, You didn't. I didn't force you. Besides, that's not how 'against my will' works."
She interrupted, "Consent isn't just about not struggling, it's about actively agreeing. And I didn't."
His expression shifted from anger to confusion. "You didn't push me away or say no."
"Because I was shocked," she snapped. "And even if I didn't physically resist, it doesn't mean I consented. You took something without asking."