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In an instant, my world is reduced to this moment, this room: The unbreakable hold of his arms - not unbreakable in their strength, but in my own undesirability to free myself from them; The pressure of his fingers on my shoulders; The light spilling across his face, illuminating eyes that are as dark and inexplicable as the uncharted depths of an ocean.

The silence blanketing us is charged with the shared awareness that those flimsy lines we had drawn have all but been wiped away. Had basically never been there at all. The boundaries that we had placed between us had been created for the sake of propriety and were just about as impenetrable as a sheet of paper in a rainstorm.

If it had not been here in this closet, I was sure that we would have found ourselves in this situation somewhere else down the line. I was not naive enough to underestimate the power of sexual desire, especially not when it involved some forbidden aspect. In fact, there were countless stories that depicted this exact thing. Wanting someone you cannot have only makes the attraction that much harder to ignore, though many try. And we had tried, at least.

Harvey's chest is rising and falling faster than it should be for our slight movement that brought us against the wall. His expression is drawn, not in anger - I knew the look of anger probably better than most - but in resigned determination, like he has committed himself to the task of proving a point.

"Do you truly believe that you're the only one who's having trouble controlling themselves?" Each word is very measured and distinct, the epitome of calm, but his fingers press harder into my shoulders. Not enough to hurt, but a gasp falls from my lips anyways. Eyes never straying from mine, he continues almost tenderly, "Do you think that I haven't thought about this endlessly, about all the ways I could get you alone?"

"You - you left," I accuse weakly, sounding out of breath myself. "I kissed you and you left."

"And it's a miracle that I did," he responds more sharply, his eyes tightening at the memory of it. "With you all over me, practically begging me to come inside."

His words were painting me out to be some sexually depraved harlot. I glare up at him, letting my anger take the reins since the alternative was to give in to the desire that's undeniably building in me. "I wasn't all over you. And I wasn't begging either. I kissed you, that's it."

He laughs darkly, sending butterflies swarming in my stomach. "Was that all that was, an innocent kiss? Do you think it would have stopped at that, had I not put my foot down when I did?"

No. No, I didn't think that at all. I knew how I had wanted last night to end, wrong or not. I bite my lower lip, a detail that doesn't escape his notice.

"You're so frustrating, do you know that?" His voice drops to a whisper, his breathing even more ragged now. Each exhale fans out across my face, making me dizzy with the smell of spearmint toothpaste. It combines with his own enticing scent into a powerful aphrodisiac. The wetness between my legs is sudden and noticeable; every brush of my jeans against my clit is delicious torture.

I had envisioned moments like this during the times I'd given in to my fantasies of him while touching myself. I would close my eyes and my imagination would wind lazily down those dark paths we couldn't follow ourselves. I swallow loudly. "How am I frustrating?"  

He's still staring at my lips, eyelids lowered over dilated pupils. "You have no idea what you do to me. What you have been doing to me since we met. Maybe you need a reminder."

And then he's kissing me, hard and unrelenting, and I come alive once more beneath him.

My mind hadn't let itself believe that this is what we were leading up to, but my body proved more than ready for his ambush. I grasp his tie in one hand like a lifeline, dragging him to me with carnal hunger. My other hand is already stroking over the broad muscles of his back that tense beneath his linen shirt.

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