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I couldn't stop.
My fingers were trembling against her skin, desperate—no, ravenous—as they explored the softness of Akane's waist. Her hands were trapped gently between mine, and I was kissing each one like they were sacred, like I'd go insane if I stopped. Every time I felt her pulse jump, I wanted more. The scent of her sweat, the warmth of her flushed cheeks, the way her eyes fluttered as my mouth neared hers—it was driving me mad.
And worst of all?
I knew something was wrong.
I wasn't just aroused. I was consumed. My thoughts weren't mine anymore. Logic was a distant whisper, drowned beneath the pounding of blood and the overwhelming need to make her mine right then and there.
I had her pinned against the wall. One arm cradled the small of her back. The other wandered up her ribs, fingertips brushing the curve of her bra. I couldn't pull away. My body didn't want to. I didn't want to.
Then the knock came.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
It was sharp. Urgent.
But I ignored it.
