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beach

A few hours ago, I had control. I set the pace, dictated the rules. But now? Now I’m wrapped around him—legs at his waist, fingers tangled in his hair, breath caught between challenge and surrender.

He carried me like he owned me. The private beach stretched behind us, waves licking at the shore, but all I could focus on were his hands—firm, possessive, certain.

I should have pulled away, reminded myself that I don’t play by anyone’s rules but my own. Instead, I stayed, body caged against his, breath hitching at the heat between us.

Everything about him was cocky, infuriating, the kind of danger I should avoid. And yet, my pulse raced, my body betrayed me.

A low chuckle rumbled against my skin, sending a shiver down my spine. The air between us thickened, charged with something neither of us acknowledged but both felt.

This wasn’t part of the game. But for the first time, I didn’t want to run.

Not yet.