|Casmira’s POV|
The moment we step inside his apartment, the air shifts.
It’s darker here—intimate, private, the kind of place where secrets are shared and boundaries are shattered. The city lights pour in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating the sleek lines of expensive furniture, but I barely notice any of it.
All I see is him.
Draven stands by the door, his broad frame silhouetted against the dim glow. His eyes are on me—intense, unreadable, searing through every layer I have left.
The tension between us is unbearable, a living thing crackling in the space that separates us.
He doesn’t move.
Neither do I.
Not until I take a shaky breath and whisper, “Are you going to kiss me again?”
His lips twitch, but there’s nothing playful in his expression. Only raw hunger.
