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Each word sparks against my skin, and I swear I’m one breath away from doing something reckless—dangerously reckless.

“I thought you’d forgotten what my name even was,” she admits, straightening, probably ready to leave.

Big mistake.

Her chest is now in front of me, so close I can feel the warmth radiating from her skin.

I set my glass aside, free my hands, and wrap both arms around her waist. She gasps at the sudden contact, her body going still for a heartbeat. Her hands fall to my shoulders, gripping them to steady herself.

“Where do you think you’re going so fast?” I ask, my voice low and dark.

I feel her body tremble against me. Cold, maybe.

Or maybe it’s just me.

She swallows, her gaze dropping to mine, and the desire blazing in her eyes isn’t my imagination, it’s real.

She’s just as turned on as I am.

And that’s what pushes me over the edge.

I move forward and catch the soaked hem of her silk top between my teeth. The fabric is drenched and cold, her skin beneath it just as chilled.

With my tongue, I trail down from just below her breasts, where the top ends, all the way to the waistband of her shorts.

My heat against her cold body leaves goosebumps in its wake, and she lets out a strangled sound caught somewhere between a moan and a gasp, her fingers digging into my shoulders until her knuckles whiten.

When I lift my gaze, her eyes are locked on me.

I hold that stare, slow and intentional, as I work my way back up. Reaching her top again, I bite down on the fabric and pause, keeping my eyes on hers.

Thalia doesn’t say a word. Doesn’t move.

She just holds her breath, staring right back at me.

I tug the silk upward, exposing half of each breast, and the sight strips away the last of my restraint.

“Jesus,” I mutter under my breath before pulling the top all the way up and finding myself face-to-face with her bare tits.

There’s no hesitation.

I take one tight nipple into my mouth, biting gently before soothing it with my tongue. She collapses against me with a sound that’s half-pleasure, half-pain, one hand fisting my hair while the other clutches my shoulder.

Without warning, I feel her shift, setting fully onto my lap—right over the erection that’s already becoming a serious problem.

Now she’s facing me, and her expression betrays everything. Desire. Frustration. That same flame she clearly doesn’t want to feel but can’t control.

Smirking, I lean toward her lips, careful not to touch them.

“So what are you planning to do now?”

She closes the distance between us, mouth brushing my ear, her tongue tracing slowly from it down to my neck and back again. Then she nips my earlobe lightly, moving with deliberate teasing.

I groan, throwing my head back, every nerve ending on fire.

“Please, Ethan,” she whispers, her voice thick with need, pushing what’s left of my control to the brink. “I know you’re not as affected as I am, but I need you… now.”

Her statement makes me lift her a bit off me so I can look into her eyes.