"What are you doing?" Melanie asked curiously as she watched Adam look outside the window and then pull the blinds tightly.
Just a moment ago, he had agreed to her conditions and carried her here urgently, sweeping her off her feet as if he was worried she would change her mind.
She’d felt a jolt of excitement at his urgency and her mind had readily provided images of being pushed against the door again...But then, he’d carried her into his room and tossed her unceremeniously on the bed. That part, oddly enough, had still been thrilling though she should have been offended.
However instead of following her onto the bed with the same urgency, or even fumbling to strip away their clothing hurriedly, Adam had suddenly straightened up and asked, "Where’s your phone?"
Then, without waiting for a reply, he had disappeared from the room, leaving her blinking and unsure, sprawled on the bed.
Now, he was back, holding both her phone and his in one hand like they were ticking time bombs. Without ceremony, he powered them both off and tossed them onto the bedside table with a dull clatter.
"I’m not taking any risks," he finally answered, "I’ve turned off the main door’s bell, double-checked every lock in the house, parked both cars underground, and made sure our phones are completely off. No distractions. No interruptions. Just you, me, and the next few hours."
Melanie opened her mouth, caught between a giggle and a witty retort, but didn’t get the chance to say anything.
Before she could speak, Adam was suddenly right there beside her again, propped up on one elbow, his head resting casually on his palm as he looked at her with an intensity that sent shivers racing across her skin.
"You think this is funny? Hmm?" he murmured, one brow slightly raised as he threw an arm around her waist and pulled her flush against him. His heavy thigh draped possessively over her legs.
He dipped his head, nuzzling the curve of her neck as his voice dropped to a husky whisper. "You have no idea how many nights I’ve spent dreaming of you, of this, of you lying here on my bed, looking up at me just like that. The number of cold showers I’ve had to endure..." He trailed off with a breathy chuckle. "And every single time we got close, something—or someone—managed to interrupt us. Not tonight. Tonight, nothing short of a natural disaster is coming between us."
He pressed a slow kiss beneath her ear before murmuring, "Tonight, I’m going to explore you to my heart’s content."
His hand moved with purpose, fingers sliding to the buttons of her shirt as he held her gaze. "First, I’m going to get rid of this shirt... and that skirt you insist on wearing, looking like some stern, no-nonsense teacher. Sigh, you have no idea the naugthy fantasy it invokes of bending you over a table..." he teased, lips brushing hers with the barest touch. "Then I’m going to let my eyes feast on every inch of you, just like I’ve imagined—over and over again."
His voice thickened with desire, his fingers working steadily as they reached the band of her skirt, pulling her shirt out of the confines of the skirt. "Next, I’ll taste every inch of that delicious skin my eyes have been worshipping for far too long, so I finally know exactly how you taste."
He paused, his gaze darkening with promise. "And then... I’ll leave a trail of delicious little bites all over your body, marks that’ll remind you—every time you catch a glimpse—of exactly what we’ve been doing."
Melanie was already a mess and they had barely started. She could feel his closeness—every inch of him pressed against her, warm, solid, and very real. The heat of his thigh over hers, the brush of his fingers at her waist, and the teasing rasp of his voice against her ear made her skin feel too tight, her thoughts scatter like leaves in the wind.
And then, his hand slipped under the shirt, and she almost jumped off the bed. She would have moved, if not for his thigh holding her in place.
Her lips parted, not to speak, but to simply breathe him in and she stared into his eyes and murmured, "I’ve dreamt of you too, you know."
That made him pause.
His gaze snapped back to hers, the teasing glint in his eyes replaced by something darker. "Liar," he breathed roughly, though his voice lacked real accusation—more like a challenge, as if daring her to say it again.
She didn’t flinch. Instead, she shook her head slowly, her eyes drifting down to his lips for a beat—lingering—before lifting to meet his again, "The first night when we were in this house together... I dreamed you came into my room."
A flush crept up her neck as she made the confession, but something inside her wanted to be reckless and goad him. She didn’t want him to be slow and gentle...She wanted to see exactly what her words would do to him.
And she saw it immediately.
It was like a fuse had been lit. Something primal flashed across Adam’s face, burning away the last remnants of restraint. His jaw clenched, his breath stilled—and then, without a word, the hand on her waist tightened, fingers digging in almost possessively.
He didn’t speak.
He didn’t smirk or tease.
He kissed her.
Hard.
His mouth crashed down on hers, all heat and hunger, like he needed to devour the breath from her lungs. There was no hesitation, no gentleness—just raw need.
And then, he shifted. In one fluid, urgent movement, he rolled her beneath him, his body covering hers, freeing his other hand to push at the sides of her shirt to expose more of her to his hungry gaze.
Melanie gasped against his lips as the weight of him pressed her into the bed, making her feel claimed and almost... conquered.