He didn’t let go of my hand. His grip was strong, pulling me from the living room’s soft shadows into the starker darkness of the kitchen. My bare feet padded silently on the cool tiles, a stark contrast to the heat thrumming through my veins. The air here was different, smelling faintly of coffee and citrus, but all I could register was the scent of him—sweat, chlorine, and raw, unfiltered want.

He didn't slow until we reached the large granite island in the center of the room. Without a word, he spun me around and shoved me forward. My stomach and thighs hit the edge of the cold stone with...