Then we cross the threshold into the living room, he suddenly comes to a halt.
A throat clears.
Standing in the middle of the room, wine glass poised at her lips, Celeste stares at us like she’s walked into a live performance of some scandalous drama.
She freezes mid-sip, eyes flicking from me—still slung over Theo’s shoulder—to Theo himself.
Slowly, deliberately, she lowers her glass.
“Well,” she says, her lips curving into a slow, knowing smirk. “Don’t let me stop you, I wasgoingto stay in and watch a movie, but, um—” she gestures vaguely between us, “—clearly,thatwould be a mistake.”
I groan, covering my face. “Celeste.”
She smirks, already grabbing her jacket. “No, no. Don’t mind me. I wasjustleaving.” She heads for the door, pausing at the threshold. Then, over her shoulder—“Have fun, kids.”
The door clicks shut behind her.
Silence.
Then Theo lets out a low chuckle. “I like your sister.”
“Don’t encourage her,” I groan, squirming. “Put me down.”
“Not a chance.” He tightens his grip. “Not until I get you exactly where I want you.”
Desire spikes hot in my veins.
He takes the stairs two at a time, his grip steady, his breath even. Thecontrolof him, the sheer determination in every step, sends a thrill through me.
By the time he reaches my bedroom, I’m burning up.
He sets me down gently, his hands sliding to my waist, but doesn’t step back. Instead, he leans in, his lips brushing my ear.
“You want someone who initiates,” he murmurs. “Who takes control.” His fingers flex, gripping me just enough to make me feel it. “You want to bewanted.”
I swallow hard. “Yes.”
His hands slide down, teasing over my hips. “You want to betoldwhat to do.”
My breath hitches.
He pulls back just enough to look at me, his eyes dark and full of heat. “Tell me if I’m wrong, Sweetheart.”
I shake my head, my pulse pounding. “You’re not wrong.”
A slow, satisfied smile curves his lips. He reaches up, brushing his knuckles over my cheek. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he says, voice thick. “So smart. Sostrong.”
Heat flares in my chest, unexpected, overwhelming.
His fingers trail lower, tracing the curve of my neck. “And tonight, you’remine.”
A shiver runs through me.
“Say it,” he murmurs, his grip tightening just enough.
I barely recognize my voice. “I’m yours.”
His jaw tightens. His pupils blow wide. “Good girl.”