It’s not hesitant. It’s not testing the waters. It’s deliberate, firm—like he’s wanted to do this for hours and finally decided he can’t wait another second.
I melt instantly, my hands gripping the front of his shirt, pulling him closer. He makes a low sound in the back of his throat, deep and satisfied, and I feel it everywhere.
The tension that has been simmering between us all night finally ignites, and I know, without a doubt, that neither of us is stopping now.
Theo’s lips move against mine, slow and sure, like he has all the time in the world. His hands settle on my waist, firm but careful, and before I can even process it, he shifts, pulling me effortlessly into his lap.
I gasp softly against his mouth, my hands landing on his shoulders as I straddle him. I can feel his hard cock pressing against my pussy. With my skirt flared out, only the material of my knickers and his jeans is between us. A delicious shiver runs through me.
His lips trail from my mouth down to my jaw, then lower, pressing slow, lingering kisses along the curve of my neck.
I exhale, tipping my head slightly to the side, giving him more space, wanting… needing him closer.
He hums softly against my skin, his hands roaming lightly over my back, fingers dipping just under the hem of my top, teasing but not pushing. His breath is warm, his lips soft, and the way he’s holding me—steady, unhurried—makes my stomach flutter.
I shift against him instinctively, and his grip tightens slightly, like he’s trying to keep himself in check. Like he’s waiting for me to tell him exactly how far I want this to go.
And I do want this. Fuck, I want this.
But I also want him. Not just the heat, not just the way he’s making my body hum with anticipation—I want everything.
As if he can sense my thoughts, Theo presses one last kiss just below my ear and murmurs against my skin, “You know… you haven’t given me the full tour yet.”
His voice is laced with something that causes a thousand butterflies in my stomach.
I force myself to focus, my fingers still curled into the fabric of his shirt. “The tour?”
His lips brush my skin again. “Mmhmm.” He presses a kiss just beneath my jaw, then lowers his voice further. “You haven’t shown me the bedroom yet.”
I almost forget to breath because I know what he’s asking.
He’s not demanding, not assuming. He’s checking in with me in the gentlest, most ridiculously perfect way.
And just like that, I know my answer.
I lean back just slightly, meeting his gaze. His eyes are dark, searching, waiting for me to decide.
I swallow, then smile softly. “Well, we can’t have you missing part of the tour, can we?”
His lips curve into a slow grin, his hands tightening on my hips but I wiggle free and stand up. “No,” he murmurs, as he watches me. “That would be a tragedy.”
A shiver runs through me as I hold out my hand as an invitation to come with me. His fingers curl around mine, warm and steady, and without a word, I lead him towards the bedroom.
The anticipation between us is palpable.
I reach the door, pushing it open, then flick on the bedside lamp. A warm, golden glow fills the room, castingsoft shadows on the walls. The light feels intimate, safe. Like a quiet invitation.
And then Theo is there, right behind me, his hand still in mine.
He turns me slowly, his other hand coming up to cup my cheek.
For a second, he just looks at me, like he’s memorising this moment, this choice. And then he kisses me.
Deep, slow, devastating.
I sigh into his mouth, pressing closer, hands gripping his shirt as he tilts my head, deepening the kiss. His tongue pushes against mine with quiet certainty, like he’s staking a claim without words.
Then, without breaking contact, his fingers trail down, brushing the hem of my top. He hesitates—just for a fraction of a second—giving me space to stop him if I want to.
