It was sometime past midnight when I felt Rika stir again, this time not with sleepy comfort but with something heavier. Her breath warmed my chest, lips brushing against my skin like she was tasting me in her dreams.
Then her leg slid higher, draping fully over my waist. The friction jolted through me, sharp, undeniable.
"Rika," I whispered, my hand instinctively tightening around her hip.
Her eyes cracked open, glazed but burning, and she gave me that look—the one that stripped me down to my bones. No teacher. No authority. Just a woman undone, searching for something only I could give.
"I can't sleep," she murmured, voice low, husky. "Not when you're here, holding me like this…"
Before I could answer, she tilted her head up and pressed her lips to mine. Not gentle. Not tentative. A deep, hungry kiss that stole the breath straight from my lungs.
