SLOANE POV
The room felt thick with tension, the only sounds were our ragged breathing and the distant, faint tick of a clock somewhere in the vast house. My body was a traitor—aching, soaked, pulsing with the same frustrated need that had been building since.
But my mind was a storm of anger, unwanted desire, and the cold knowledge that crossing this line would shatter the fragile balance of our contract, our war, everything.
I stared up at him, chest heaving, wrists straining uselessly against the silk tie. My nipples were hard against my gown, my thighs trembling where they parted under his weight.
His thumb stroked higher, teasing, waiting.
"Well?" he murmured, eyes locked on mine. "Tell me to stop... or admit what we both already know."
I bit my lip hard, refusing to give him the satisfaction of either. Not yet.
The silence stretched, electric and unbearable.
