The ride back to the hotel was quiet, but the air was different. The tension had shifted from anger to something much more potent. When we stepped into the hotel room, the city lights of Milan were sparkling through the windows, but all I could see was Eric.
He closed the door behind us, locking it with a soft click. The sound echoed in the room, final and heavy. He turned to me, the buzz from the wine making his movements slow and deliberate.
"Autumn," he murmured, stepping into my space.
“Turn around,” he commanded.
I did as he said. I stared at my own reflection in the mirror, my heart hammering against my ribs. I felt the cool air hit my skin as the zipper of my dress slid down until it was at my tailbone.
"You meant what you said?" he asked, his hands coming up to rest on my wais
