Soft Hands, Sharp Edges

"We shouldn't be doing this," she breathes, her lips so close I can almost taste the words.

I step in, closing the space, and the second our bodies almost touch, the air between us ignites. "Naomi," I growl, my voice low, urgent. "Don't tell me to stop. Because I... I don't think I can."

Her chest rises and falls, her hands pressing against my chest as if trying to push me away, but her eyes betray her, dark, burning, wanting.

"You're insane," she says, voice trembling, but she doesn't move.

"Maybe," I murmur, leaning closer, until her lips are just a whisper away from mine. "But I'm yours... at least for tonight."