Lie to Him, Moan for Me!

Something we'd never come back from +18

The silence after was dangerous.

The kind that didn't feel peaceful—but volatile, like something was building in the quiet. Like the air between us was still charged, still smoldering from the fire we had just lit and poured gasoline over.

My breath hadn't steadied. His fingers were still curled possessively around my waist, thumbs brushing my bare skin like he couldn't stop, like he didn't want to.

But the guilt was creeping in.

Slow, familiar, cruel.

I slid back slightly on his lap, trying to catch my breath, trying to think. My thighs were still trembling, my dress clinging to sweat-slick skin, my hair a mess from where he'd had his hands tangled in it. His scent was all over me.

I licked my lips, voice barely a whisper. "I should go."

Nathan's arms tensed instantly. His grip hardened, locking me in place. His jaw clenched, and when he looked up at me, his eyes were dark—dangerous—possessive.

"No."

I blinked, breath catching. "Nathan—"

"No," he said again, voice rough and low and furious. "You're not going anywhere."

My mouth parted.

"You think you can fall apart like that for me," he growled, "let me touch you like that—fuck you like that—and just walk away?" His voice cracked. "No. I'm not letting you."

"Nathan, please—"

He sat up, eyes burning into mine, his hands gripping my hips so hard it nearly hurt. "You're mine tonight. I don't give a fuck about Liam, or about what this is supposed to mean, or what we pretend it means. You're not leaving."

"Nathan.."-i tried

"Maya" His voice dropped lower, into something dark and possessive, full of heat and rage and want. "I don't fucking care about anyone else. Not right now."

I stared at him.

"Tonight". "You are mine."

I should've said something sharp. I should've pulled away. Pushed him off.

But I didn't.

Because some part of me wanted to be his.

Just tonight.

Just in the dark, where no one else could see.

I slid my hands up his chest again, felt his heart still racing beneath my palm. I leaned in, forehead resting against his, my voice unsteady.

"Just tonight."

He nodded, hands hard on me.

"Fine"-I whispered.

He exhaled like he hadn't been breathing until then.

We dressed in silence, fumbling with buttons, limbs shaking. He pulled his shirt back over his head, ran a hand through his hair, then looked at me like he didn't know what the fuck we were doing—but he was already too deep in it to stop.

And so was I.

And when we got to my building and slipped inside through the back entrance—avoiding noise, people, Liam—I didn't say a word.

He didn't either.

I opened my door, heart in my throat, guilt chewing at my spine, but the second it clicked shut behind us, he pressed me against it like he couldn't wait another second.

Hot. Bruising. *Claiming.*

Nathan kissed like he wanted to erase every other kiss I'd ever known. Like he needed to leave me wrecked so no one else would dare try. His hands were everywhere—gripping my jaw, sliding into my hair, yanking my head back so his lips could drag down my throat, teeth grazing skin, biting.