His lips hovered over mine again, daring, demanding. My breath came in short, shaky bursts, but I didn't pull back. Couldn't.
"Say the word," Adrian growled, his voice rough, jagged. "Say stop—and I'll walk away."
But I didn't. Instead, my silence became my answer.
Something broke in him. The restraint I'd seen tightening his jaw, the distance he'd tried to hold between us—it all shattered. His mouth claimed mine again, deeper this time, hungrier. His hands framed my face like I was something fragile and dangerous all at once.
Heat spread through me, wild and unstoppable. My fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, needing more of him, terrified of how much I already craved.
With a sudden movement, he pressed me back against the glass wall, the city lights burning like stars behind me. The cold bite of the window contrasted the fire between us, every nerve sparking under his touch.
"You drive me insane," he whispered against my mouth, his words hot and desperate. "Every second you're near me, every damn breath you take—I feel it. And it's killing me."
His confession only made my chest ache more. Because I felt it too. The pull, the danger, the forbidden need that only grew stronger the more I fought it.
His hand slid down, resting at my hip, his thumb brushing my skin just above the waistband of my maid's uniform. The simple touch made my knees weak, made me want to melt into him completely.
"Adrian…" My voice cracked, not from fear, but from the weight of everything pressing down on us—his fiancée, his world, the risks I couldn't even name.
He stilled, searching my eyes. For a heartbeat, I thought he would stop.
But then, softer than before, his lips returned to mine—slow this time, devastatingly tender, like an apology and a promise wrapped into one.
And I let him.
Because whatever this was—danger, madness, fire—I was already lost in it.
The kiss deepened, no longer hesitant, no longer restrained. Adrian's hand slid into my hair, tilting my head back as if he wanted to devour me whole. His other hand anchored at my waist, holding me so tightly I felt as though I could disappear into him.
The cold glass at my back contrasted with the molten heat of his body pressing into mine. Every brush of his lips was desperate, almost angry, like he was punishing himself for giving in—and punishing me for making him lose control.
I couldn't breathe, but I didn't want to. I wanted only him, only this fire that licked through my veins and burned every rational thought out of me.
His mouth trailed from my lips to my jaw, down to the hollow of my throat. I gasped, clutching at his shoulders, my fingernails digging into his expensive suit.
"Adrian—" My voice broke, torn between fear and need.
"Don't say my name like that," he growled, his breath hot against my skin. "You'll make me forget everything that matters."
Maybe I wanted him to.
My trembling hands moved lower, over the hard lines of his chest, down to the belt at his waist. His body stiffened, a sharp inhale shuddering through him, but he didn't stop me.
Instead, he lifted me effortlessly, pressing me harder against the glass. I wrapped my legs around his waist instinctively, his strength swallowing me whole.
The city outside blurred, a thousand lights fading into nothing as his lips returned to mine. His kiss turned hungrier, rougher, like he was unraveling and I was the only thing keeping him tethered.
"I shouldn't," he muttered against my mouth, his voice cracked with restraint. "But I can't let you go."
"Then don't," I whispered back, surprising even myself.
And that was it. His control shattered completely.
His mouth claimed me again, his hands gripping me as though he wanted to leave his fingerprints on my very soul. Every kiss was fire, every touch gasoline. And as the world outside burned with light, I knew we were already crossing a line we could never come back from.