"Am I?" he asked, his voice neutral despite the heat I could see building behind his careful mask.
"Very." I set down my wine glass, trailing my fingers along the stem in a gesture that was deliberately sensual. "I find myself wondering what it would take to make you lose thatfamous control of yours. To make you act on impulse rather than calculation."
His expression didn't change, but I saw his hand tighten slightly on his own glass—a tiny tell, a hairline crack in his perfect composure.
"A dangerous line of inquiry," he said softly.
"I like danger," I replied, holding his gaze. "I must, or I wouldn't be sitting here with you, playing whatever game this is."
"Is that what we're doing? Playing a game?"
I smiled, slow and deliberate. "Aren't we? You set the rules. I test the boundaries. You enforce them. I adapt. Back and forth, give and take, a constant negotiation of power and control."
He set down his glass, his movements precise, controlled. "And what's the objective of this game, in your view?"
"For you?" I shrugged, the movement causing the neckline of my dress to shift slightly. "To possess me, I suppose. Body, mind, will. To make me surrender not just physically, but completely."
"And for you?"
I leaned forward again, deliberately invading the space between us. "To maintain some part of myself that remains... mine. To find the limits of your control. To see what happens when they break."
The tension between us was palpable now, a living thing that hummed in the air, that made my skin prickle with awareness, that turned each breath into a conscious act.
"And how do you plan to find these limits?" he asked, his voice dropping to a register that sent heat pooling low in my belly.
I reached across the table, my fingers brushing his hand where it rested beside his wine glass. "I have a few ideas."
His hand remained perfectly still beneath my touch, neither withdrawing nor responding. His eyes, however, darkened perceptibly, pupils dilating with what I recognized as desire.
"I'm sure you do," he said, his voice betraying nothing of what his eyes revealed. "But I think you'll find my limits more resilient than you anticipate."
"Is that a challenge?" I asked, trailing my fingers up his wrist, feeling his pulse jump beneath my touch.
"An observation," he corrected, still not moving, still maintaining that maddening control despite the heat I could feel building between us.
I withdrew my hand slowly, deliberately. "Well, I've always enjoyed proving observations wrong."
His lips curved in a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. "And I’ve always enjoyed watching you try."
The dessert arrived—something rich and sinful, all dark chocolate and fresh cream. I took a bite, closing my eyes for a moment as the flavor melted on my tongue. The sound I made was soft, pleased, just this side of indulgent.
"This is incredible," I murmured, letting the spoon linger between my lips before sliding it out slowly, the tip of my tongue catching the last of the chocolate.
Rafe’s eyes were locked on my mouth now, tracking every movement with sharp, focused intent. His shoulders remained squared, but there was a new tension coiled through him, tight and humming beneath the surface. His jaw flexed once, then again.
"I'm glad you're enjoying it," he said, voice low.
"I am," I said, dipping a finger into the dollop of cream on the side of the plate. I brought it to my lips, dragging my tongue along the tip with deliberate, lazy ease before slipping it into my mouth and sucking it clean. “Very much.”
His composure didn’t crack—but it wavered. His eyes followed my hand like a hawk tracks prey. The faintest hitch in his breath betrayed him, and the muscle ticking in his jaw told me I was getting under his skin.
"Careful. You're going to make me forget we're pretending to be civilized."
"Who, me?" I blinked, all faux-innocence as I licked the edge of the spoon again. "I’m just enjoying what's in front of me."
"Mm," he murmured, dark eyes on my mouth. "So am I."
I laughed,the sound genuine despite the tension thrumming between us. "At least we're both maintaining our polite fictions."
