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There is no question attached to it, but I hear one anyway. Ross kisses me before either of us says anything else.

There is nothing tentative about it. One moment I am standing in front of him with my hand still beneath his, and the next his mouth is on mine and every boundary I have spent the past few weeks pretending I can manage disappears at once.

My hands close around the front of his shirt before I even think about doing it. Ross brings one hand to the back of my neck while the other slides around my waist, pulling me closer until there is barely any space left between us.

The kiss deepens almost immediately. I answer with the same hunger. His mouth moves over mine with a control that lasts only a few seconds before something in him gives way. He backs me toward the shelves, and when my shoulders meet the wood behind me, his hand tightens at my waist while mine slide into his hair.

A low sound leaves him against my mouth, and the vibration of it sends heat through me so quickly that I pull him closer.

Ross presses his body fully against me. There is no mistaking the hard length of his cock through his trousers. The realization makes the heat rise throughout my entire body. My pussy vibrates, and I’m instantly wet for him.

I arch into him instinctively, and his grip shifts lower along my hip as he kisses me again. His mouth moves from mine to the corner of my lips, then to my neck, before returning with more force, and I feel the careful restraint I have always associated with him slipping further with every second.

My fingers tighten in his hair while his hand slides along my waist, then down lower as he cups my butt and pulls me harder against him.

The pressure between us leaves me breathless. I can feel exactly how badly he wants me, and the knowledge only makes me want more.

He continues to kiss me, slower this time, but the change does nothing to lessen the intensity. If anything, it makes me more aware of every point where our bodies meet.

Then he stops. The change is gradual rather than abrupt. His mouth leaves mine, but he doesn’t immediately step away. Instead, he rests his forehead against mine while both of us struggle to steady our breathing.

“We should stop,” he says quietly.

I keep my hands against his chest. “I know.”

Ross closes his eyes for a moment before opening them again.

“If we keep going, I’m not stopping a second time.”

My pulse jumps at the certainty in his voice.

I believe him completely, which is exactly why I force myself to loosen my grip on his shirt.

“You’re right,” I tell him.

He studies my face for another second, and neither of us apologizes or pretends the kiss was accidental.

Ross steps back first.

The loss of his body against mine feels immediate, and I smooth my dress while trying to recover some sense of composure. He drags one hand through his hair, reaches for his jacket, and looks at me once more before turning toward the door.

“Good night, Blaire,” he says.

“Good night,” I reply.

He leaves the library a moment later. I stay where I am, still pressed against the shelves, listening to his footsteps disappear beneath the sound of the rain.

When I reach my apartment later that evening, the rain has now softened to a steady hiss against the windows, but I’m still wound too tightly to sleep.

I undress and step into the shower, letting the hot water run over my shoulders until the chill of the night disappears from my skin. It should clear my head. Instead, the quiet gives me too much room to remember the library, the weight of Ross against me, and the moment his control finally slipped.

The memory follows me into bed. I turn off the lamp and settle beneath the sheets, but my body refuses to relax. Heat lingers low in my stomach, spreading every time I remember how close we came to losing control completely. I know now that I didn’t imagine any of it. Ross wanted me badly enough that stopping cost him something. More than anything, I remember how hard his dick was against me and the unmistakable size of his bulge through his trousers. Even now, the thought sends a slow ache in between my thighs and my pussy tingles.

I slide one hand beneath the sheet. At first, I barely move, letting my fingertips trace slowly over the warmth between my thighs while I close my eyes. The pressure is light, almost teasing, but it sends a shiver through my legs and makes my breathing deepen.

My mind goes somewhere I wouldn’t let it go in the library.

I imagine what it would have felt like if Ross hadn’t stopped. I picture that same powerful body over mine, the control gone from his face, and the size I felt pressed against me becoming something I no longer have to wonder about. The fantasy makes my hips shift instinctively against my hand.