“You look like you’d rather be anywhere but here,” he said. His voice, damn, it was smooth. It burrowed into me quicker than I thought. Spinning around, he hovered over me, far too close. His breathing ghosted across my face. Cornered, pinned to the wall, that’s where I found myself. He cocked his head, assessing me as though I were a puzzle. “Tell me to stop.” Speechless, I remained quiet.

Suddenly, he touched me. It wasn’t harsh; instead, a solid claim. As if he’d been wanting to for hours. He held my waist, unwavering, heated. A touch to my chin, then his palm at my throat. Thinking stopped, just scattered pieces now. He came closer; suddenly, there was no space left. It started gently, his lips meeting mine. A tentative touch blossomed into something urgent, a craving taking hold. My legs trembled; reality dissolved. The party sounds softened, becoming distant vibrations. Just my heartbeat filled my ears.

He drew away, his grip gentle. His gaze followed my lips, as if etching the shape into remembrance. Pinned to the wall, I felt a live current under my skin; my pulse hammered. He asked with his eyes, “Go on.” So my fingers found the buckle of his belt. The shift jolted him awake, instantly focused on me. Soon, I found my legs circling his hips. He nudged aside my underwear just before entering.

My air vanished as his hand clamped on my throat while he drove himself against me. Sounds caught in his hold. The music hammered on, swallowing any stray noise. Pinned to the wall, I felt utterly consumed – a blissful ache. It simply was. A rush – always on the verge of discovery. His movements, a fierce claiming within me. Simultaneously overwhelming yet incomplete. I tumbled forward, taking him along. The rush faded, our breaths mixing. His grip loosened on my neck, a slow release – as if parting felt wrong. I felt the same. Air rushed back into my lungs, signaling a single thought needed voicing. “Your place – or mine?”