SASHA’S POV
I gasped at his audacity, my heart pounding in my ears. The sheer nerve of this man! Anger and desire twisted together in a messy, beautiful storm inside me, making my skin tingle and my mind spin.
I opened my mouth to protest, to tell him that I’d never beg, that he had no power over me. But before the words could escape, he moved his hand, sliding it down my shoulder, the touch searing my skin through the thin fabric of my dress.
I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms to ground myself. But it didn’t help. The ache deep inside me only grew, becoming almost unbearable.
“Stop tormenting me, please,” I said, the words slipping out before I could stop them. It was a soft plea, breathless and raw.
His eyes lit up, a small victorious smile playing on his lips. “Oh, Sasha,” he murmured, brushing his thumb along my jawline.
“I’m not tormenting you. But if you want this, if you want me…” He tilted my chin up, forcing me to meet his gaze. “You’re going to have to ask.”
I stared at him, the challenge laid out between us like a gauntlet. My pride warred with the need pulsing through me, the heat that spread under my skin.
Sebastian had always pushed me to my limits, tested me in ways I hadn’t thought possible. And now, he was waiting for me to crack, to surrender.
But I wasn’t sure how much longer I could hold out.
—
I bit my lip, torn between defiance and desire. The silence stretched on, filled only by the unsteady rhythm of my breathing and the sound of the city outside, a distant reminder that the world was still spinning beyond these walls.
But here, with Sebastian’s eyes boring into mine, everything else faded away. He was my entire world in this moment, and the thought both terrified and thrilled me.
“Why do you always have to play these games?” I whispered, my voice barely above a breath.
It was a weak attempt to stall, to push back the inevitable, but the truth was I was already teetering on the edge.
His gaze softened for just a moment, a flicker of something deeper passing across his features before he smothered it with another smirk.
“It’s not a game, Sasha. It’s just us. The way we are.” His hand moved from my chin, trailing down the length of my arm until it rested on my waist, pulling me in just enough that our bodies almost touched but not quite.
The heat between us was palpable, electric. My resolve wavered, and I felt my knees threaten to give way.
This dance we did, the push and pull, it was familiar. Addictive. But it had never reached this fever pitch before, never felt so close to consuming me whole.
I could feel his eyes studying me, waiting for a crack in my armour. And maybe it was the way he held me, the smell of his cologne mixed with the faint hint of mint on his breath, or maybe it was just that I was tired of fighting what we both knew was inevitable. But in that moment, I let the last remnants of my pride slip away.
“Sebastian…” My voice was strained, laced with longing and surrender.
“Yes?” He leaned in, close enough that our noses brushed, and I could see the way his pupils dilated, dark and full of unspoken promises.
“I need you.” The words came out as a confession, whispered and trembling. The moment they left my lips, I felt both relief and anticipation coil tight in my stomach.
SEBASTIAN’S POV
The air between us was heavy with a tension I hadn’t felt in years. Every subtle movement, every glance, everything seemed amplified by the silence that filled the room.
Sasha sat across from me, her eyes darting to mine before skittering away, cheeks flushed with a warmth that made my heart race. I leaned back in the chair, pretending nonchalance, though inside, my pulse drummed with anticipation.
I had planned every step of this night, down to the way the lighting would soften the sharpness of her features and highlight the deep green of her eyes.
My control over myself had been ironclad so far, but watching her now, that delicate tremble of her lower lip, I felt it waver.
My fingers reached out, almost on their own accord, and found the bare skin of her back. She tensed for a moment, the tiniest shiver running through her as my touch settled there, tracing slow circles.
Sasha swallowed hard, her breathing uneven, and I almost smirked at how easily she responded. This was exactly what I wanted-to push her until she broke, until she whispered my name and craved me without restraint.
“Sebastian,” she murmured, barely audible, but the sound resonated through me like an electric current.
I lifted a brow, waiting for her to continue, but she clamped her mouth shut, a small, defiant glare lighting up her eyes.
“What is it, Sasha?” I asked, my voice deliberately low, almost lazy. I knew exactly what it would do to her.
Her breath quickened, but she refused to answer. I could see the internal battle reflected in her eyes, pride warring with need.
I slid my hand a fraction lower, fingertips brushing the dip at the small of her back. Her lashes fluttered closed, and I felt a surge of satisfaction bloom in my chest.
“Do you want me to stop?” I asked, almost teasingly, my thumb pressing lightly into her skin.
I leaned forward, so close that my breath mingled with hers. The tension snapped tight, and I felt her hand clutch at the back of my chair as though she needed the support.
She opened her mouth as if to speak, then closed it again, the frustration building. This game was as much about control as it was desired.
I needed her to be the one to take that final step, to break first, and judging by the way she squirmed under my touch, I was close to winning.
“I hate you,” she finally whispered, but her voice was so thick with longing that it only made me grin.
“Do you?” I pressed a kiss just below her ear, feeling the shiver that coursed through her.
Her body arched involuntarily, seeking more, and it took every ounce of restraint I had not to take her right then and there. She would have to ask for it, beg for it, and until she did, I would continue this sweet torment.
“Stop… playing games,” Sasha said, her voice breaking at the end.
She turned her face toward mine, our lips only inches apart, and I could see the storm in her gaze. Anger, desire, and something more raw than either swirled together, making her eyes glitter like emeralds.
“This is no game,” I whispered back, brushing my nose against hers. “But you know what you need to do, Sasha.”
She glared at me, the defiance blazing again, and I thought for a moment she’d push me away.
But instead, she stood abruptly, breaking the contact and leaving me momentarily stunned. The room suddenly felt colder without her warmth, and for the first time, I doubted my strategy.
But then she surprised me. She reached for my hand, pulling me up from my seat with a force that belied her size.
I barely had time to react before she wrapped her arms around my neck and pressed her body to mine, her fingers threading into my hair. Her eyes were fierce, unblinking.
“You want me to beg?” she said, her voice shaking but determined. “You want me to say it, Sebastian?”
I said nothing, my throat dry. This was the moment I had been waiting for, and it was better than I’d imagined. But then, she did something that threw me entirely off balance.
She leaned in, her lips finding mine with a fire that matched my own. It wasn’t tentative or soft; it was raw, consuming, as if she were claiming me, not the other way around.
The shock of it coursed through me, stealing my breath, and for a moment, I forgot everything, where we were, why this had started. All I knew was the way she felt pressed against me, her heartbeat pounding as wildly as mine.
Sasha broke away first, leaving both of us gasping for air. Her hands remained in my hair, and I could see her chest heaving with the effort to catch her breath.
“I’m done with your games,” she whispered, her eyes locked onto mine.
And before I could respond, before I could regain the upper hand, she kissed me again, softer this time, almost gentle, and I surrendered to the warmth of her lips, letting her take control.