Everything felt like it was happening in slow motion.
Gie's fingers trembled as she reached for the silver ring connected to a delicate chain, carefully undoing it from his nipple.
She traced the smooth metal slowly around his sensitive skin, feeling the gentle resistance of the piercing, her fingertips brushing softly, tantalizingly over his flesh.
She could feel the heat radiating from his skin, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest growing increasingly unsteady beneath her touch. Each subtle caress sent electric shivers racing through her own body, heightening her awareness of just how intimate this moment had become.
But what broke her—
What completely unraveled her—
Was the soft sound he made.
A low, barely-there moan slipped past his lips as she slowly slid the jewelry from his nipple, the delicate chain sliding silkily over his chest toward the necklace around his throat. The gentle friction of metal on skin made his breath hitch audibly, the sound raw and vulnerable.
Her hands froze. Her breath hitched.
Damn this man.... That was hot.
Because Alexander Millers didn't moan.
He didn't let people touch him.
He didn't let people get close.
And yet—
He was letting her.
She could sense his surrender in the subtle tremble of his muscles beneath her fingertips, the rapid flutter of his pulse at the hollow of his throat, the tension rippling through him yet held carefully in check.
The realization nearly destroyed her.
But before she could process it, before she could even begin to think about what it meant—
He moved.
One second, she was kneeling between his legs, barely able to breathe.
The next—
His powerful hands grasped her waist, pulling her forward swiftly yet gently.
Her body reacted instinctively, falling against him, aligning perfectly onto his lap.
And suddenly—
She was straddling him.
His strong thighs spread beneath her, commanding and irresistible.
Her breath caught sharply as she felt him—hot, thick, unmistakably hard—pressing directly against her core, igniting an aching need deep within her.
Her mind went blank.
She bit her lip to stop her moan. Her entire body locked in overwhelming sensation.
Alexander, utterly calm, perfectly composed—simply gazed up at her.
"For better access," he murmured, voice low, seductive, filled with dangerous promise.
She nearly whimpered. For better access, my foot.
But still she didn't move away.
There was no way he couldn't sense her reaction, her arousal obvious even through the barriers of clothing between them.
Her pulse thundered violently, fingers gripping his shoulders desperately as she struggled for control.
This was about the jewelry.
This was professional.
Yet every minuscule shift pressed her intimately against him, every delicate adjustment intensifying the pulsing heat and longing within her.
Her hands trembled visibly as she brought up the new piece, black gold glistening provocatively under the dim, sensual lights, the fine chain cool against her flushed fingertips.
She knew she had to be precise.
But precision seemed impossible when each gentle movement sent sparks of pleasure spiraling directly to her core.
She swallowed thickly, thighs tightening instinctively around him.
Alexander's warm breath brushed her neck slowly, provocatively, hands anchored firmly on her hips.
He wasn't urging her forward.
He wasn't pulling her away.
He was simply holding her—steadying her, grounding her, forcing her to acknowledge exactly how deeply she wanted him.
Allowing her the choice—
To stop.
Or to surrender completely.
She put on the necklace first the metal glinting under the light.
Then with agonizing slowness, her fingertips grazed his skin once more, guiding the nipple ring and chain into position, deliberately lingering, dragging gently across his flesh. His skin warmed beneath her touch, his breath hitching audibly again, a sharp intake of air as her nails lightly scraped against him.
Then—
Another quiet sound from him.
A low, involuntary moan, raw and vulnerable, reverberating through his chest directly into her.
Gie's breath turned ragged, her heart hammering wildly. Her thighs clenched around him, hips shifting subtly, instinctively pressing herself harder against him, seeking friction, relief, connection.
His grip tightened instantly.
Not to stop her.
But to restrain himself.
To hold back the fierce hunger clearly surging through his body.
He was waiting, watching—letting her decide how far they would go.
Heat surged violently through her, her entire body trembling, breath shallow, uneven, desperate.
She should stop.
Yet when her eyes met his, the raw, unfiltered desire she saw there obliterated any remaining self-control.
She nearly moaned at how he looked at her. Dark. Intense. Hungry.
The silence between them stretched—thick, charged, impossible to ignore.
"Alexan—" She trailed off.
His gray eyes were heavy, hooded with something far deeper than simple lust. Something dangerously intense, possessive even, that made her stomach tighten sharply, twisting into a painful knot of anticipation.
His hands remained on her hips, strong and immovable, holding her firmly in place as though he had no intention of ever letting her leave.
Like he was waiting for something.
Waiting for her.
Her breath caught sharply, her pulse thundering violently beneath her skin.
She knew what was about to happen.
And she knew she wouldn't stop it—not this time.
She couldn't say who moved first.
Maybe it was her leaning in.
Maybe it was him pulling her down.
But suddenly—
The space between them vanished.
His mouth captured hers, lips hot and commanding, instantly stealing every coherent thought from her mind.
She gasped into the fierce contact, fingers clutching desperately at his broad shoulders, her body pressing helplessly against his chest as she melted entirely into his heat.
The kiss wasn't slow or gentle.
It was raw, wild, consuming—a fierce collision of mouths, teeth, and tongues. Breathless moans tangled in their throats, their lips greedy, demanding more with each passing second.
It was as if they had both been starving—denying themselves this moment—and now the dam had broken, washing away every restraint.
His hands moved first, sliding boldly from her hips to her waist, fingers splaying wide across her lower back, pulling her even tighter against him until she could feel every scorching inch of him pressed intimately between her legs.
She whimpered softly into his mouth, and he responded by deepening the kiss, claiming her lips fiercely as he tilted his head, tasting her fully, hungrily.
Her hands trembled uncontrollably as they slipped beneath the open fabric of his shirt, exploring the firm contours of his chest, feeling his muscles tense deliciously under her touch.
Yet, despite the urgency that pulsed between them, a flicker of hesitation flashed through her mind.
This wasn't supposed to happen—not with him, not now.
She knew better. But the intoxicating heat of his skin, the raw intensity of his touch, quickly extinguished any doubts. Lust surged through her veins, overpowering caution, drowning reason, leaving only raw, desperate need.
It wasn't enough.
She needed more—needed to feel him fully, without barriers. Skin to skin.
His fingers urgently grasped the hem of her top, dragging it upward, exposing inch after inch of heated, sensitive skin. She shuddered in response, her body arching against him, desperate to eliminate any remaining space between them.
Skin met heated skin, and she moaned at the intoxicating sensation.
His deep, rumbling groan vibrated against her throat as his mouth trailed away from hers, leaving scorching kisses along her jawline, down her sensitive neck, tasting, biting, marking her with possessive intensity.
Her head fell back, fingers threading through his thick hair, gripping tightly as her body arched, offering herself shamelessly to him, begging wordlessly for more.
And he answered her silent plea.
His mouth roamed hungrily across her collarbone, teeth grazing her flushed skin, tongue soothing each sharp bite, his hands exploring the curves of her body with a reverence that bordered on worship.
She was burning, spiraling, losing herself completely beneath his masterful touch.
Every nerve ending was on fire, every breath shaky and desperate.
They were racing toward the edge, hurtling recklessly toward a dangerous, uncontrollable place from which there would be no return.