The night had a heaviness about it, as if the air itself were warning her not to step outside her door. Amara lingered by the window, watching the city lights smear against the darkness, her fingers curling around the thin curtains. She told herself she wouldn't go, that it was madness to answer him. Yet when the message from Tunde blinked on her phone, her body betrayed her before her mind could.
"I need to see you".
It wasn't a request. It never was with him. His words always carried an undertone that was half-command, and half-plea.
Her heart thudded wildly as she slipped on her jacket, ignoring the little voice that whispered Kelechi's name. That name had become a chain, binding her to guilt, to the fragile illusion of loyalty. But tonight, she wanted to break free, even if only for a moment.
The street was quiet, the only sounds the soft hum of distant generators and the occasional bark of a stray dog. She kept her hood low, the thrill of secrecy sparking in her veins as she walked toward the quiet garden where Tunde had told her to meet him.
He was already there, leaning against the old iron gate as if he had been waiting for her his whole life. The glow from a nearby street lamp fell across his face, sharpening the cut of his jaw, the intensity of his eyes. When his gaze locked on her, something in her chest tightened and refused to let go.
"You came," he said, voice low, carrying that rough velvet texture that seemed to unravel her defenses every time.
"I shouldn't have," she whispered, her arms folding across her chest as though that would shield her from him.
"But you did."
He pushed away from the gate and closed the distance between them, his presence engulfing her. Amara's breath faltered, her will unraveling as he lifted his hand, brushing his thumb across her cheek with a gentleness that contradicted the hunger in his eyes.
"Tunde, this is wrong," she murmured, though her voice lacked conviction.
He leaned in, his lips hovering just above hers. "Then why does it feel so right?"
The world fell silent. No footsteps. No voices. Just the wild pounding of her heart as she let him close the gap. His kiss was fire; slow at first, deliberate, as though savoring the taste of her surrender. Then it deepened, urgent, consuming, pulling her under until she couldn't tell where he ended and she began.
Her hands gripped his shirt, pulling him closer, needing him like air. Every kiss, every touch felt like a sin carved in fire across her skin, but she didn't care. Not now. Not when her body was screaming for him.
They stumbled back toward a shaded bench hidden under an overgrown tree, their lips never parting. Tunde's hands roamed with a hunger barely restrained, sliding beneath her jacket, finding the heat of her waist, the curve of her hips. She gasped against his mouth, the sound fueling him.
"Tell me to stop," he whispered against her neck, his breath hot, his voice trembling with a control he was barely holding onto.
"I can't," she confessed, her fingers tangling in his hair. "Don't stop, please."
That was all he needed. His mouth trailed fire down her throat, across her collarbone, leaving her trembling under his touch. The night air clung to her heated skin as his hands explored with reckless devotion, memorizing every line, every curve.
Amara's mind spun. This wasn't just desire; it was something deeper, more dangerous. With every stolen kiss, every shiver, she felt herself slipping further into something she might never escape.
Tunde pulled back just enough to look at her, his forehead pressed to hers. His eyes burned with a mix of lust and something frighteningly tender. "Amara… you don't know what you do to me."
Her lips parted, but no words came. She only knew the truth of what his hands and mouth were telling her; that she belonged in this fire with him, no matter how forbidden it was.
The kiss that followed was desperate, almost frantic, as if they both knew this moment couldn't last. Clothing shifted, barriers fell, and soon there was nothing but skin on skin, heat against heat. His touch was everywhere; possessive, reverent, desperate.
When he finally entered her, it was as though the world shattered and reformed all at once. She clung to him, nails digging into his shoulders, every thrust pulling her deeper into a storm she didn't want to escape. Their moans mingled with the rustle of leaves, the night bearing witness to a passion neither of them could deny.
Time lost all meaning as he pounded into her. There was only the rhythm of their bodies, the raw connection that felt like both destruction and salvation. When they reached their peak together, it tore through them like lightning, leaving them shaking, gasping, clinging to each other as if letting go would mean falling into an abyss.
For a long moment, they stayed like that, their breaths ragged, their hearts wild. Then, slowly, reality crept back in.
Amara pulled away first, her chest rising and falling as guilt pressed down on her like a heavy shroud. "We…we shouldn't have."
Tunde caught her wrist gently, his eyes searching hers. "Don't regret this. Don't regret us."
But she couldn't answer. The weight of Kelechi's name pressed against her lips like a curse she couldn't speak. She stood, adjusting her clothes with trembling hands, her body still humming from the memory of his touch.
"I have to go," she whispered, avoiding his eyes.
"Amara"
"Please." Her voice broke.
He let her go, though the torment in his eyes told her he didn't want to. She walked away, every step tearing her in two.
Behind her, Tunde's voice carried into the night, soft but filled with a promise that made her shiver.
"This isn't the end."
Amara's breath caught as she disappeared into the shadows, knowing his words were true. This was o
nly the beginning of a dangerous game; and she was already in too deep.