The moonlight was our only witness, casting long, dramatic shadows across the road and the surrounding trees. I was standing between her legs, my hands gripping her waist so tightly my knuckles were white.
We weren't just kissing anymore; we were colliding. Every touch was fueled by the weeks of friction, the arguments, the longing, and the absolute chaos of the restaurant. I tasted the salt of her tears and the sweetness of the wine we’d shared, my tongue tangling with hers in a desperate, rhythmic dance.
Maya’s hands were frantic, her fingers digging into the fabric of my shirt, pulling at my tie as if she were trying to find the man beneath the silk. She broke the kiss for a split second, her forehead resting against mine, her breath coming in ragged, shallow gasps.
"Cole," she wh
