Unspoken Desires
The next two days passed in a blur of metal and fire. Logan barely slept, consumed by the need to finish the corset. He worked well past midnight, each strike of the hammer a release of pent-up frustration and desire. His body ached from the labor, but it was nothing compared to the tension simmering beneath his skin.
Emilia's words echoed in his mind. Strength doesn't have to be loud. It haunted him, stirring something deep inside. He wasn't used to holding back, used to letting the world see his power. But with her, it was different. She saw beneath the surface, saw him in a way no one else had. And that terrified him.
By the time Emilia returned, the corset was finished. The steel frame was a thing of beauty—sleek, curved, elegant yet powerful. It shimmered in the light, a perfect blend of raw strength and delicate grace.
Logan stepped back, admiring his work for the first time in days. It wasn't perfect, but it was close. It was more than he expected to make.
He heard the familiar click of heels on the concrete floor before Emilia stepped into the workshop, her gaze immediately scanning the room. Her eyes found him, and she gave him a small, approving nod.
"It's ready," she said, her voice calm but with a hint of anticipation.
Logan crossed his arms, watching her. "You're here early."
"I couldn't wait," she admitted, her eyes flicking to the corset on the workbench. "May I?"
Logan nodded, stepping aside to give her space.
Emilia approached the corset, her fingers hovering just above the steel as if she were afraid to touch it. But then, slowly, carefully, she reached out and traced the contours of the frame.
Logan watched, his heart pounding in his chest. There was something about the way she moved, the way her hands caressed the steel, that made the air between them crackle with electricity. She was more than just a designer. She was an artist, and this piece—this creation—was her masterpiece.
"It's perfect," she said quietly, turning to look at him. "You've outdone yourself, Logan."
The words hit harder than he expected. For the first time, Emilia's praise felt more personal than professional. It was more than just admiration for his work—it was a recognition of him.
Logan swallowed, his throat dry. "I'm glad you're happy with it."
Emilia's gaze softened, and she stepped closer to him. "I'm not just happy with it." She reached up, her fingers grazing his jaw as if she were unsure whether to touch him or not. The contact sent a shock through him, his pulse quickening.
"Emilia," he said her name softly, his voice rough.
She didn't pull away. Instead, she stepped in closer, until the space between them was barely there. Her breath was warm against his skin, her presence overwhelming.
Logan's heart thudded in his chest as he fought the urge to pull her into him. He could feel the heat radiating from her, could see the flicker of desire in her eyes. But something inside him held him back. He wasn't sure if it was fear, or if it was something deeper—something that went beyond the physical attraction that had been building between them since the moment they met.
But Emilia didn't give him a chance to overthink it.
She leaned in, her lips brushing against his in a kiss that was soft at first—tentative, exploratory. But the moment their lips met, all of the tension that had been building between them exploded. Logan's hands moved to her waist, pulling her flush against him as the kiss deepened.
It was all fire—raw, unrestrained. The heat of the forge, the spark between them, ignited in a kiss that was everything and nothing at once.
For a moment, there was nothing but the feel of her in his arms, the taste of her lips, the electricity that crackled between them.
And then, just as suddenly as it began, Emilia pulled back, her chest rising and falling rapidly. She looked at him, her eyes dark with something unreadable.
"I should go," she said, her voice low and strained.
Logan barely registered the words, his mind still racing from the kiss. "Emilia—"
But she was already moving toward the door, her steps quick and purposeful. She paused, just before leaving, and turned to face him one last time.
"I'll see you tomorrow," she said, her voice a mixture of resolve and uncertainty.
With that, she was gone, leaving Logan standing there, breathless and reeling from the kiss that had shaken him to his core.
He exhaled slowly, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. He had known this was coming—knew that their connection would reach a breaking point. But he hadn't expected it to be like this. He hadn't expected it to be so… intense.
He glanced over at the corset, his mind still racing.
The fire between them had only just begun to burn.