Her brows furrowed slightly, then smoothed. She gave the faintest nod.
I dipped two fingers into the chocolate—slow, deliberate, letting her see every move. Then I lifted my hand, holding the glistening touch of sweetness just inches from her lips. A second offer. This time more intimate. More exposed.
Her breath hitched, chest rising subtly. Her gaze darted from my fingers to my eyes and back. Something darker flickered in her expression. Hunger. Not for chocolate.
For closeness. For control. For something we’d both been starving for but too cautious to touch.
She leaned forward, her lips parting slowly. Then—God help me—she wrapped them around my fingers, warm and soft, her tongue curling over the pads in a slow, deliberate swirl.
My breath caught hard in my throat. Her eyes stayed
