Mara
Cole’s hand caught my wrist before I could fully turn toward the bed.
Not rough.
Not gentle.
Intentional.
It stopped me cold.
The room felt smaller with that single point of contact, heat spreading up my arm like my body had been waiting for permission to react. My pulse was loud in my ears. Too loud. Like it was trying to warn me and encourage me at the same time.
“You sure,” he asked.
Serious.
I didn’t answer with words.
I stepped closer to him instead.
My palms flattened against his chest, solid and warm under my hands, heartbeat steady like he wasn’t standing on the same edge I was. I tipped my head back and kissed him again, slower than before, deeper. Less hunger, more intent.
That did it.
His other hand came to my lower back, pulling me flush against him, like dist
