The Kane estate felt different at night. The city's distant hum was a low, sensual backdrop to the stillness inside the sprawling mansion. Cassandra trailed behind Adrian as he led her to their private suite, her heels silent against the polished floors, her pulse thrumming with anticipation. Every step closer to him made her aware of the space between them—the tension, the electricity, the unspoken promise that lingered like smoke in the air.
Adrian opened the door and gestured for her to enter first, his eyes sweeping over her with that predatory intensity she couldn't ignore. "Make yourself comfortable," he said softly, almost deceptively casual, though the subtle edge in his tone sent a shiver down her spine.
She stepped inside, the suite bathed in golden lamplight, the velvet curtains drawn to shield them from the outside world. The room was lavish, decadent—everything Adrian Kane represented. And yet, all she could think about was the way he looked at her, the slow, deliberate way his gaze traveled over her body without touching, every look a challenge and a temptation.
Cassandra set her clutch down, suddenly aware of how exposed she felt—not physically, but emotionally. She could feel him in every corner of the room, a presence so strong it made her chest tighten.
He moved closer, slow, deliberate, giving her space yet closing in with every step. She could feel the heat radiating off him, even without contact. Her pulse raced, her breaths shallow. "Adrian…" she whispered, almost a plea, almost a warning.
He stopped, just a foot away, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Cassandra…" His voice was low, deliberate, smooth, and laced with an edge that made her tremble. "I won't touch you… not until you give me permission. But I will enjoy every second of tempting you until you do."
Her body reacted instantly—her skin prickling, a warmth spreading from her chest down to her thighs. Every nerve ending was awake, alive, screaming at her to let go. But his words, that restraint mixed with teasing, made the fire burn even hotter.
"You're… cruel," she breathed, a smile tugging at her lips despite the heat she felt.
"Perhaps," he said softly, his eyes never leaving hers. "But only because I know what I'm doing to you. I can feel it."
She swallowed hard, aware of the magnetic pull that drew her closer to him despite the rules, despite the contract. Every brush of his gaze was a brush of fire, every syllable a tease, every subtle movement a promise of pleasures withheld.
He circled her slowly, giving her space but making sure she felt the looming presence of his body, the dangerous tension coiling between them. "Do you know what I imagine?" he murmured, voice low, intimate. "Do you have any idea what I'd do if you let me?"
Cassandra's breath hitched. "I—I…" Words failed her. Her body was already betraying her, responding to the thought of his hands, his lips, his… everything.
Adrian leaned in slightly, so close that she could feel the warmth of his breath against her skin. "If you give me permission, I'd start slow… tracing every line, every curve, every inch of you until you begged for more. But I won't… not until you say yes. Not until you decide it's yours to give."
Her knees weakened slightly, her fingers trembling as she brushed against the back of a chair for support. She hated him. She hated that she wanted him. And she hated that every word, every look, every teasing pause had her burning alive with desire.
"Why are you doing this?" she whispered, almost accusing, almost pleading. "Why make me wait?"
"Because," he said, his gaze darkening, intense, magnetic, "the anticipation makes every touch, every kiss, every whisper worth it. Waiting… makes you feel it deeper. Makes it… unforgettable."
Her breath caught. The tension was unbearable. She wanted him so badly it hurt. Every instinct screamed to close the distance, to give in to the fire that had been building since the lobby, since the ballroom, since their very first touch at the contract table. But part of her, stubborn and terrified, wanted to see how far he would push the tease.
He moved closer again, slow, deliberate, just close enough that she could feel the heat of him without contact, just enough that her body betrayed her with a subtle shiver. "You're trembling," he noted softly. "Do you want me to stop?"
"No," she whispered, voice low, tight, but filled with desire. "I don't…" Her words failed entirely as he tilted his head, eyes locking onto hers, reading her like an open book.
"You don't what?" he pressed, the teasing edge in his voice sharp and delicious.
She swallowed, heart racing, body on fire. "I don't want you to stop," she admitted finally, a tremor of surrender in her voice.
A slow smile curved his lips, and he let out a low, satisfied hum. "Good." He moved even closer, just a breath away. "Because I plan to enjoy every second… every second of you… until you give me the permission I crave."
Her fingers itched to touch him, to feel the solid heat of his body pressed against hers, but the restraint—the slow burn of teasing—was worse, more intoxicating than any immediate gratification could be.
Adrian's hand hovered near her arm, just brushing against the sleeve of her dress in the gentlest way possible, almost a whisper, almost nothing—but enough to send a shock through her system.
"Do you feel it?" he murmured, voice husky, intimate. "This… this pull, this fire?"
"Yes," she breathed, lips parted, cheeks flushed. "I feel it. Every… second."
He leaned just slightly closer, so their foreheads nearly touched. "Then know this," he whispered, his breath ghosting over her lips, "I want you. All of you. And I will wait… if that's what you choose. But I promise… every second of waiting will make it… unforgettable."
Her hands itched to curl around his neck, to pull him closer, but she didn't. She allowed the tension to build, the slow burn of desire to consume her. Every look, every word, every brush of warmth was like fire, igniting her from the inside out.
And Adrian? He was a master of restraint. Teasing, powerful, darkly magnetic, allowing her desire to build, making every nerve in her body ache for him without touching her fully. It was maddening. Exquisite. Erotic. And she realized, with terrifying clarity, that she could never resist him—not really.
"Tonight," he whispered, voice low, almost a growl, "you'll sleep. Alone, if you wish. But know this… the fire between us isn't going anywhere. It's only beginning. And when you're ready to give me permission… everything will change."
Cassandra's lips parted in a silent gasp as he stepped back, giving her space but leaving the lingering heat of his presence imprinted on every nerve. She shivered, trembling from the intensity of the teasing, the erotic electricity, the promise of what was to come.
As she sank onto the plush sofa, trying to steady her racing heart, she realized the dangerous truth: she wanted him. She wanted him more than she had ever wanted anyone. And she feared, maybe more than anything, that when she finally gave him permission… she might lose herself completely.
And somewhere in the back of her mind, she welcomed it.