Chapter 5 Where He Touched Her

Cassia stepped into the sunroom. Dorian was there, as promised, leaning against the window frame, arms folded. The shirt he wore was only half-buttoned. Bare chest. Bare feet. The kind of relaxed that made her nervous.

"You stayed," he said without looking at her.

"I shouldn't have," she replied.

"But you did."

She took a slow step forward. "You kept my dress."

He finally turned to face her. "I couldn't throw it out."

"Why?"

He looked at her like the answer was obvious.

"I remembered how you looked in it. That was enough."

She swallowed. "You're not supposed to say things like that."

"Says who?"

"Everyone."

He walked toward her.

One step.

Then another.

Cassia didn't move.

He stopped close. So close she could smell the faint citrus from his skin, something darker beneath it.

"You want me to stop?"

Her breath shook. "I didn't say that."

He raised a hand, brushed her hair behind her ear, then let his fingers trail down the side of her neck.

"You've always been soft," he said quietly.

"And you've always been a problem."

His mouth quirked. "I don't want to be."

"Then don't touch me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you've already imagined this a hundred times."

"I have."

She blinked, startled by his honesty.

He stepped in.

Their bodies didn't touch-but barely.

"I've thought about it every damn time you looked at me like you didn't know what to do with me."

She didn't back up.

"You think I didn't notice you?" he asked.

She shrugged, lips parted. "You were married."

"I wasn't blind."

He reached down, fingers brushing her wrist. Slow.

"Tell me to stop," he whispered.

She didn't. She didn't breathe.

His hand slid up, over her arm, fingertips trailing the inside of her elbow.

"You're shaking," he said.

"I'm not scared."

"Then what?"

"I want to know how far this goes before we break."

He exhaled through his nose. "You really want to find out?"

"Yes."

He kissed her.

It wasn't a question. It wasn't careful.

It was hot, firm, a little reckless.

Cassia gasped into his mouth. Her hands gripped his shirt, dragging him closer until they were flush-chest to chest, thigh between thigh.

He backed her into the glass, mouth trailing to her jaw, her neck, her collarbone.

Her breath turned to sound.

He cupped her face. Looked at her. "Say it."

She blinked. "What?"

"Say you want me."

"I do."

"How bad?"

She kissed him hard, answering with teeth and tongue. He groaned into her mouth, his hands sliding down her waist, gripping the back of her thigh, lifting slightly until her leg hooked around him.

His lips hit her ear.

"I've wanted this since the first time you wore this dress."

"That was seven years ago."

"I've had time to think about it."

He pushed the fabric higher, hands under her shirt now. Her skin burned beneath his palms.

Her head fell back.

"Dorian..."

"You like it when I say your name."

"Don't stop."

He didn't.

His hand slid to her ribcage, just beneath her breast. He hovered.

"Can I?"

She nodded. "Yes."

His thumb grazed her nipple.

She shivered. His other hand gripped her hip, pulling her closer.

Then-she froze.

It was small. Barely a blink.

But he noticed.

He stilled.

She breathed through her nose. "Not everything. Just... slow."

He nodded. Kissed her neck once. Softly.

"I told you I'd wait."

"But don't stop touching me."

His mouth found her collarbone again, slower this time. Lingering. Teasing.

"I'm not going to rush you," he said. "But I'm going to ruin you."

She laughed breathlessly. "You already are."

"Good."

He slid his hands down her thighs, then stepped back.

She looked dazed.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Letting you come down from it."

"I didn't ask you to."

"Because if I don't stop now..." He stepped close again, grazing his mouth near her ear. "I won't."

Her body trembled.

"You make it hard to think," she said.

"Then stop thinking."

He kissed her again-this time slower. Deep. Sure.

Then left her breathless, lips parted, arms still reaching.

He stepped away.

"I'm going to take a cold shower, and you're going to sit here and be a good girl, my girl."

Cassia leaned against the glass, weak in the knees, smiling like she'd just committed a sin and couldn't wait to do it again.