For Me,There Is Only You |18+|

55. Crossed Line

The dryness in my throat made swallowing a struggle.

My body rebelled against every step I took toward him, yet I forced myself forward, each movement a quiet surrender to the gravity of his presence.

"Let's get this over with," I whispered, my voice breaking under the weight of my own resolve.

The words, fragile and shaky, betrayed the maelstrom raging within.

His golden gaze sharpened, his head tilting just slightly, as though I'd piqued his interest.

Yet he remained still, maddeningly composed, his hands tucked into the pockets of those sinful silk trousers that hugged his frame.

He watched me with the predatory calm of a wolf studying its prey, savoring the chase.

I stood before him for a few seconds before my hands trembled as they rose, driven by a force I couldn't name.

The moment my palms touched his face, warmth bloomed beneath my fingertips, his stubble coarse yet magnetic. The scent of him-dark, heady, intoxicating— wrapped around me, making my breath hitch. A shiver licked its way down my spine, igniting a fire low in my belly.

My mind screamed at me to step back, but my body refused.

Fucking mate bond.

The frantic rhythm of my heartbeat betrayed the war waging within, but I pressed on, the pull of him irresistible.

It's just a kiss. Just a kiss.

His molten gaze tracked my every move, a flicker of amusement glinting in those golden depths, as if he already knew the outcome.

That smirk-that maddening, knowing smirk-sent a flush of heat across my cheeks.

My lashes fluttered closed, a feeble shield against the overwhelming power of his presence.

I leaned in, my lips grazing his with a touch so light it was barely there-a whisper of a kiss, testing.

His body tensed beneath my hands, his muscles coiling like a predator preparing to pounce. He didn't move, didn't reciprocate, but the heat radiating from him was a silent dare.

My lips trembled, but I pressed on, parting just enough to graze his bottom lip.

Then, a sound-a low, guttural growl—vibrated through him, primal and raw. It rippled through me, setting every nerve ablaze.

My resolve faltered, and I drew my face back, my breaths shallow and shaky, the taste of him lingering on my lips.

Even with my eyes closed, I felt it-that searing hunger radiating from him, tethered by a threadbare restraint. He didn't reach for me, didn't claim the kiss I'd offered, but his silence screamed louder than words.

When I dared to meet his eyes again, the golden depths burned with something carnal, something that made my knees weak. His gaze roamed over me, lingering, consuming, as if memorizing every detail of my surrender.

"Is that all?" Zev murmured, his voice rough, honeyed with desire, yet edged with dark amusement.

The teasing lilt had vanished, replaced by a hunger that threatened to devour us both.

My throat constricted, the words clinging stubbornly to the back of my tongue.

I took a hesitant step back, as though that sliver of space could shield me from the magnetic pull between us.

"You asked for a kiss," I managed, the tremor in my voice betraying my attempt at composure. "I gave you one. Your demand is fulfilled."

A slow, deliberate smirk curved his lips, as though he found my defiance both amusing and futile. "Not even close."