26

Vincent ’s presence filled the room like a force of nature. I could feel his gaze on me even before I saw him. When I finally looked up, there he was, standing in the doorway, his posture relaxed but his eyes intense.

He was dressed simply, but there was nothing casual about the way he looked. His clothes fit perfectly, highlighting the strength beneath, the muscles in his chest and arms accentuated by the fabric. His dark hair was tousled, and the slight stubble on his jawline added to his rugged aura. But there was a warmth in his eyes when he looked at me, a softness that caught me off guard.

I couldn’t help but feel drawn to him, my heart racing as I took in the sight of him. He was so close, and yet there was an undeniable distance between us, a tension that filled the air.

“Are you going to be gentle with me?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

He took a step forward, his hand gently brushing my arm, pulling me up to stand before him. His touch was firm but not harsh, as he tilted my chin up, forcing me to meet his gaze.

His eyes darkened, filled with something unreadable. His presence was overwhelming, as if he could see straight through me, into the very heart of my thoughts.

“I’m not here to be gentle,” he said, his voice low and steady.

My breath hitched at his words. It was as if he already knew what I wanted, what I needed, and yet, he was in control. He leaned in, his lips brushing mine in a kiss that was soft but filled with unspoken promise.

When he pulled away, I could feel the weight of his gaze on me. He didn’t need to say anything more. The silence spoke volumes. His hands moved to my shoulders, carefully adjusting the fabric of my dress, and I felt exposed, vulnerable, yet strangely powerful in his presence.

Each touch was deliberate, slow, as if he was savoring every moment. The tension between us built with each passing second, and I knew things were changing—something was shifting in the air, and I wasn’t sure I was ready for it. But deep down, I couldn’t look away. I didn’t want to.

His voice rolled through me, deep and commanding, sending a shiver down my spine. I turned my head toward him, my breath catching at the sight of him in the doorway. He didn’t move immediately, watching me with an intensity that made the air feel charged.

Before I could say anything, he closed the distance between us. The sheer force of his presence overwhelmed me, leaving me caught between wanting to push him away and wanting him closer. His hand brushed my arm, his grip firm but careful, pulling me to my feet. He tilted my chin up with his fingers, forcing me to meet his piercing green eyes.

“You’ve been running,” he said, his tone low but brimming with authority.

“I—” My words faltered under the weight of his gaze. There was no use denying it. He knew.

His lips quirked into a smirk, one that sent my pulse racing. Without warning, he dipped his head and kissed me, a kiss so consuming it stole the breath from my lungs. The intensity of it was undeniable, demanding my attention and leaving me dazed.

When he finally pulled away, I gasped for air, my heart pounding in my chest. He leaned close to my ear, his voice a murmur of quiet dominance.

“You can fight it all you want, but you won’t win,” he said, his breath warm against my skin.

I swallowed hard, every nerve in my body on edge. He wasn’t just talking about the moment. He was talking about us—about this undeniable pull between us that neither of us could ignore.

Before I could respond, he moved with purpose, guiding me back to the bed. My protests died on my lips, the sheer magnetism of his presence silencing me. There was something about the way he carried himself, the way he looked at me like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.

As he leaned in, I felt a rush of emotions—fear, excitement, and something I couldn’t quite name. I couldn’t tell if I wanted to push him away or pull him closer, but the battle raging inside me felt just as electrifying as the tension between us.

My whole body tensed as waves of emotions and sensations overwhelmed me. I felt as though I had no control over anything, unable to focus on anything other than the whirlwind of intensity coursing through me. My breath came in sharp gasps, and my muscles trembled, but it wasn’t fear. It was an unrelenting surge of something I couldn’t explain, a mix of exhilaration and helplessness.

He didn’t relent. He stayed close, determined and unyielding, as though he was testing how much I could endure. Every nerve in my body felt alive, caught between surrendering to the moment and resisting the flood of overwhelming sensations.

“Please,” I whispered, unsure if I wanted him to ease up or to stay right where he was.

He didn’t answer with words but with action, his persistence drawing me deeper into the vortex of emotions I couldn’t escape. My body responded in ways I hadn’t expected, and I fought to steady myself, but it was impossible. Every time I thought I could catch my breath, another wave crashed over me, leaving me reeling.

Tears pricked my eyes, not from sadness but from the intensity of it all. I felt vulnerable, open, yet strangely safe. His words reached me through the haze, grounding me when I felt like I might drift away entirely.

“That’s my good girl,” he murmured, his tone soft but commanding.

I nodded weakly, my body trembling as I struggled to regain some semblance of composure.

“Yes,” I whispered, the words barely audible.

The moment lingered, leaving me caught in a state of quiet exhaustion. My mind felt hazy, but the tension began to subside, replaced by a strange calm. For now, I let myself drift, unsure of what would come next but trusting that I could handle it.

His dark chuckle sent a shiver through me, a mixture of apprehension and anticipation swirling in my chest. His gaze held me captive, unrelenting in its intensity, as if he could see straight through to my soul.

He pulled his shirt off in one swift motion, revealing the powerful lines of his chest, and the sheer force of his presence made my breath hitch. The weight of the moment settled heavily between us, his unspoken command clear in his every movement.

When he leaned closer, the air around us seemed to thrum with tension. His lips captured mine, and the kiss stole what little breath I had left. It was fierce and unyielding, like a storm breaking over me, leaving me helpless to resist the pull of it.

I couldn’t focus on anything except him—his warmth, his power, his complete control over the situation. Every nerve in my body was alive, raw, and exposed, caught in the maelstrom he had created. My heart pounded furiously as emotions I didn’t understand surged through me, making it impossible to think clearly.

It was overwhelming, and yet I couldn’t look away, couldn’t pull myself back from the edge. I felt as though I was being pushed beyond my limits, tested in a way I had never experienced before.

Somehow, I knew I wouldn’t be the same after this. There was no going back.

The intensity built until it reached a crescendo, leaving me trembling and breathless. My body gave out, unable to handle the onslaught of emotion and sensation. Darkness began to creep in at the edges of my vision, and I could no longer fight it.

As I closed my eyes, surrendering to the exhaustion, one thought lingered in my mind: I would never forget this moment.