Page 47 of Midnight at the Magnolia

I lean into his touch, savoring the warmth of his skin against mine. For a moment, I allow myself to forget about the case, about my mission, about all the lies between us. In that instant, we are just two people, falling in love against all odds.

And I’ll be damned if I said I wasn’t selfish enough to embrace it. Because I am. All I want right here, right now is him.

I kiss him again, pouring everything I can into that one kiss. All the lies I can’t speak, all the truths I yearn to spill. Everything.

As our kiss deepens, I feel myself getting lost in the moment. Ethan’s hands roam my body, igniting sparks wherever they touch. I run my fingers through his hair, reveling in its softness. The world outside fades away until there is nothing but us, two bodies intertwined on his couch.

Ethan breaks the kiss, his breath hot against my neck as he trails his lips down to my collarbone. “Celeste,” he murmurs, his voice husky with desire. “You’re incredible.”

I arch into his touch, a soft moan escaping my lips. “Ethan,” I breathe, tugging gently at his hair to bring his face back to mine. Our eyes meet, and in that moment, I see everything I’ve ever wanted reflected back at me.

Love, desire, trust—it’s all there, shining in those green depths.

Everything I ever wanted. Everything I shouldn’t touch.

Without breaking eye contact, I slowly begin unbuttoning my blouse. Ethan’s gaze flickers down, then back up to my face, a question in his eyes. I nod, giving him permission to touch, to explore.

His hands replace mine, deftly undoing the remaining buttons. As he pushes the fabric off my shoulders, I shiver, partly from the cool air on my skin and partly from anticipation. Ethan’s eyes roam my body, his expression a mix of awe and hunger.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers.

As I lean in to kiss him again, I wrap my arms around him, pulling him close, my cool façade crumbling with each beat of my heart. His lips are velvet fire, insistent and hungry, his body a furnace against my suddenly chilled skin. I can feel his heartbeat, a tribal drum echoing my own wild rhythm. Our breaths dance together, our desires clashing and melding, drowning us in a shared heat.

Ethan’s fingers trace the lace of my bra, sending electric shivers cascading down my spine, igniting a trail of goosebumps. I gasp as he replaces his fingers with his lips, drawing out a soft, involuntary moan from deep within my core. My hands grip his shoulders, nails biting into his flesh, anchoring myself to him as waves of pleasure threaten to sweep me away.

“Ethan,” I whisper again, my voice barely a breath, a secret, a promise, a plea. His name tastes sweet and forbidden on my tongue. He looks up at me, his eyes obsidian with desire, dominant and demanding. I reach for his shirt, my fingers trembling slightly, betraying my calculated exterior, as I begin to unbutton it. He helps me, impatient, shrugging it off, revealing the lean, sculpted muscles beneath, tanned and tantalizing.

I run my hands over his chest, marveling at the contrast—the hard planes under smooth skin, the strength and the heat of him. He is a living, breathing contradiction—unyielding yet tender, commanding yet vulnerable. He catches my wrists, his grip firm, controlling, kissing my fingertips before lowering my hands to his belt. His silent command is clear, and I comply, my heart pounding a frenzied tempo in my chest, echoing the pulsating need between us.

As I fumble with the buckle, Ethan’s hands explore my body with an urgency that sends jolts of electricity coursing through me. Each touch, each kiss is a dance, a step closer to the precipice. His hands are hot, slightly calloused, a stark contrast to my own cool, smooth skin.

I am a woman known for my control, my calculation, but under his touch, I am coming undone. And I want it, want to fall, to fall with him, into him. I want to lose myself completely in Ethan, if only for this moment.

Finally, the belt gives way, and I look up at him, my breath hitching in my throat. His eyes are intense, his pupils swallow the intense brown, his expression serious.

“Are you sure?” he asks, his voice hoarse with desire, a low rumble that resonates within me.

I nod, my voice barely above a whisper, “More than anything.” And with that, I let go of everything—the case, my mission, the lies. I let go and fall into him, into us. Into this wild, beautiful, dangerous dance of love and desire.

His breath hitches, mirroring mine, and he captures my mouth in a searing kiss. It is a kiss of surrender, of mutual understanding. We are crossing a line, a point of no return, and we both know it. But in this moment, it doesn’t matter. We are drawn to each other, like moths to a flame, unable to resist the heat between us.

Ethan gently lowers me onto the couch, his body covering mine. I can feel his heart pounding against my chest, echoing my own racing pulse. His hands, those strong, dominant hands, explore every curve, every line of my body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. I arch into his touch, craving more, craving him. His scent, a mix of musk and earth, fills my senses, intoxicating me. His mouth trails kisses down my neck, his stubble rough against my sensitive skin, sending shivers down my spine.

My cool facade is crumbling, replaced by a raw, genuine desire. I cling to him, my nails digging into his back, a silent plea for more. His lips find mine again, his tongue demanding, dominating. And I meet him stroke for stroke, surrendering to the inferno that is us.

My hands aren’t idle either. I trace the muscles of his back, feeling them flex under my fingertips as he moves. I pull him closer, needing to feel his weight, his warmth. His lips leave mine, trailing kisses down my neck, my collarbone, until they reach the edge of my bra again. This time, he unclasps it, freeing me from its constraint.

I gasp as cool air hits my skin, a stark contrast to the heat of Ethan’s gaze. His mouth replaces the chill, branding me with a warmth that sends my heart racing. I grip his hair, my composed exterior crumbling as waves of pleasure threaten to drown me.

“Ethan,” I breathe, his name a secret, a confession, a surrender.

He looks up, his eyes not just glazed with desire, but burning with an intensity that stokes the inferno within me. I reach for him, my cool facade melting as I pull him back up to me.

“I need you,” I whisper, my voice laced with urgency. Our mouths meet in a clash of tongues and breaths, a desperate duel where control is both lost and found.

His hands, confident and dominating, move lower, tracing the waistband of my pants before dipping beneath to tease thesensitive skin there. “You’re mine tonight,” he growls softly, his voice a low rumble against my skin. I lift my hips, allowing him to strip away the last of my defenses, leaving me bare and exposed. “And I intend to explore every inch of you with my tongue.”

He stands, his eyes never leaving mine as he removes the rest of his clothing, revealing the extent of his desire. There is no hesitation, only raw, unapologetic hunger. “I want you to see what you do to me,” he says, his voice heavy with lust. His hands travel down his torso to grip the base of his cock, already hard and ready. The tip seeping with pre-cum.

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