Emily’s POV

The click of the deadbolt echoed through his master suite like a gunshot.

Daniel rose from the edge of the bed, his chest already heaving, that chiseled torso catching the amber city lights. His lounge pants hung dangerously low on his hips, and I could already see the thick outline of his cock pressing against the gray fabric, growing harder with every step I took toward him.

"Emily, we can't," he said, but his voice cracked on my name, and his hands were already trembling at his sides. "I meant what I said. This ends—"

"How can it end," I whispered, closing the distance between us until my...