The library was quiet, the way I liked it.
Sunlight filtered through the tall arched windows, casting golden hues over towering bookshelves and the soft velvet seating tucked away in hidden corners. The gentle scent of aged parchment and ink lingered in the air, an escape from the chaotic world beyond these walls.
And for the first time in weeks, I was truly at peace.
At least, until she arrived.
I didn't hear her at first—Tessa was like a ghost when she wanted to be, moving silently through spaces where she shouldn't belong.
But I felt her.
The sudden presence at my side, the teasing brush of fingers against my open book.
"Studying on Valentine's? How painfully dull, darling."
I sighed before looking up, already knowing who it was.
Tessa Vale.
Draped in a deep crimson cloak, lips curled in mischief, her dark red eyes glinting with something far too dangerous for my peace of mind.
She leaned in, resting a gloved hand on the back of my chair, her voice a whisper of velvet.
"Come with me, Sera."
I raised a brow, skeptical. "That depends—where exactly are you trying to take me this time?"
Tessa grinned—slow, confident, undeniably pleased with herself.
"To a royal gala."
I blinked. "A gala?"
She nodded.
"The Forbidden Royal Gala, to be exact."
…Ah. Of course.
I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Tessa. That's an event for royals only. You aren't—"
"I know," she cut in, delighted by my exasperation. "That's what makes it fun."
I gave her a flat look. "So you want to crash a ball—"
"Not just any ball," she corrected, twirling a strand of her long black hair around her finger. "This is the most extravagant event of the season. A night of music, candlelight, and dancing. A place where nobility play their boring political games under the illusion of elegance."
She leaned in, her lips curving as she whispered, "And I want to steal you away in the middle of it."
I swallowed, heart stuttering at the way her voice dropped, like a secret meant for me alone.
"…You're reckless," I muttered.
Tessa smirked. "And yet, you still listen to me every time."
Damn it.
She wasn't wrong.
I should have said no. Should have refused, told her to find some other thrill for the night.
But instead, I found myself staring at the rolled-up invitation she casually slid onto my book.
An official royal crest, untouched, as if she had stolen it without a second thought.
I exhaled slowly. "How exactly did you—"
She winked. "Don't ask questions you don't want answers to, love."
I should have known better than to expect a straight answer.
Instead, I looked back at her, eyes narrowing. "…I don't have anything to wear."
Tessa's expression brightened, her fingers grazing my wrist before she turned away dramatically.
"Then let's get you something breathtaking, shall we?"
I should have known this would be a disaster.
The moment we entered the boutique, Tessa had immediately taken charge—flashing a stolen invitation, charming the attendants with a single smirk, and whisking me away into a private dressing suite before I could even protest.
Now, I stood in the middle of a lavishly decorated fitting room, surrounded by an absurd number of dresses—all ridiculously extravagant in their own ways.
Tessa sat comfortably on a plush velvet chaise, legs crossed, chin propped up on her hand, watching me with entirely too much amusement.
And she was enjoying this far too much.
I sighed, running a hand over my face. "This is going to be a long night."
Tessa smirked. "Oh, absolutely."
I stepped out of the dressing room in the first gown, adjusting the heavy, jewel-encrusted bodice that felt far too regal for me. The fabric was luxurious, the embroidery painstakingly detailed, and the cut elegant in a way that made me feel like I had accidentally put on something meant for a future queen.
I turned to face Tessa, already grimacing.
She tilted her head, eyes sweeping over me with a slow, calculating gaze before she sighed, disappointed.
"…Too much?" I guessed.
She waved a lazy hand. "Darling, you look like you're about to take the throne. It's very regal, yes, but also—" she wrinkled her nose, "painfully diplomatic."
I scoffed. "And that's bad because—?"
Tessa arched a brow. "Because I want to make people stare at you for all the right reasons, not because they think you're about to give a speech about tax reforms."
I groaned, already turning back toward the dressing room. "Next."
The second dress was so unnecessarily large, I was almost certain I was drowning in fabric.
The moment I stepped out, I took one step too wide, and—
CRASH.
A display of expensive perfume bottles tumbled off a nearby table.
Tessa stared.
The boutique attendants gasped.
I stood there, frozen, wide-eyed.
"…I think," I said slowly, "this might be too much dress."
Tessa burst out laughing.
It was the kind of laugh that shook her entire body, her hand clutching her stomach as she leaned back on the chaise, completely losing it.
"Oh, Sera," she gasped between laughs, wiping away a tear. "That was—spectacular."
I scowled, glaring down at the offending dress, its massive skirt spilling out onto the floor like an ocean of unnecessary luxury.
"Yeah, well," I muttered, awkwardly gathering the fabric in my arms, "I hate this one."
Tessa was still laughing as I stomped back into the dressing room, nearly tripping again.
When I walked out in the third gown, I knew something was wrong the second I saw Tessa's reaction.
Her smirk deepened instantly, her eyes darkening just enough to send alarm bells ringing in my head.
I folded my arms, suspicious. "What?"
She uncrossed her legs deliberately slow, standing up and stalking toward me in that confident, teasing way she did when she knew she had the upper hand.
I stepped back, instinctively, but she caught my wrist before I could retreat any further.
"Oh, love," she murmured, her fingers trailing along my bare arm, "this is very interesting."
I flushed.
Because I knew what she meant.
This dress was dangerous.
It hugged my figure in all the right places, the smooth, silk fabric pooling elegantly around my legs. But the real problem was the back—or lack thereof.
The fabric dipped scandalously low, leaving my entire back exposed, the delicate straps barely holding it together.
I clenched my jaw, glaring at her.
"Tessa," I warned, my voice already exasperated.
She only smirked, taking a step even closer, her voice dropping to something lower, silkier.
"This is indecent."
Tessa grinned.
"Exactly."
I groaned, dragging a hand down my face. "There is no way I'm wearing this to a royal gala."
Tessa hummed, circling me slowly, her fingers trailing lightly along my waist, just teasing enough to make my breath catch.
"I disagree."
I crossed my arms, turning to face her fully. "I refuse."
Tessa pretended to consider this.
Then—
She leaned in, lips just barely grazing my ear.
"Convince me."
I opened my mouth to argue, to come up with something—anything—that would stop Tessa from parading me around the most prestigious royal gala in existence wearing a dress that practically screamed scandal.
But nothing came out.
Because she was still standing far too close, her breath warm against my ear, her fingers just barely grazing the exposed skin of my back in a way that sent an unwelcome shiver down my spine.
Her touch was featherlight, teasing, lingering just enough to make my thoughts scatter.
Damn her.
I stepped back quickly, putting much-needed distance between us before I did something regrettable—like let her win.
"I—" I cleared my throat, willing my voice to sound steadier than I felt. "Absolutely not. You're enjoying this way too much."
Tessa tilted her head, mock-innocent. "What? I'm simply admiring your taste."
I shot her a flat look. "You picked this dress."
Her smirk deepened. "Then I suppose that means I have impeccable taste."
I groaned, pressing my fingers against my temples. "Tessa."
She sighed dramatically, placing a hand over her heart as if my rejection had physically wounded her. "Oh, my poor love," she murmured, voice dripping with mock sympathy. "You wound me so."
I narrowed my eyes. "If you wanted to go with the dramatic route, you should've thrown yourself onto the floor for effect."
Tessa brightened instantly, her eyes glinting with far too much mischief.
"Oh? Should I?" She took a step back, making a show of lifting her skirts, as if actually considering it.
I panicked immediately. "Tessa, do not—"
And just as I reached for her, she dropped onto the chaise instead, sprawled out like a heartbroken noblewoman from a tragic romance novel.
"Oh, cruel fate!" she cried out, throwing a dramatic hand over her forehead. "That my beloved would refuse me so—!"
A nearby boutique attendant choked on air. Another was desperately trying not to laugh.
I covered my face with both hands. "I hate you."
Tessa peered at me from beneath her arm, smirking. "No, you don't."
She was right, unfortunately.
I dragged a deep breath in, trying to compose myself before I said something that would only encourage her further.
"I'm choosing another dress," I said firmly.
Tessa sat up lazily, resting her chin in her hand. "You could…" She trailed a single finger down her own arm, as if deep in thought.
"But," she purred, watching me through lidded eyes, "you could also just admit you like it."
I froze.
I didn't.
I absolutely did not.
I refused to acknowledge the way the silk felt against my skin, the way the delicate fit made me feel dangerous, the way—
I clenched my jaw.
"That's not the point," I muttered.
Tessa smiled like she had already won.
"Oh, but it is."
I hated how smug she looked.
And worse—I hated that she wasn't wrong.
The silence stretched between us, her teasing smile growing as she leaned in slightly, watching me like she had already predicted every possible excuse I was about to make.
I needed to change the subject. Immediately.
"You haven't even picked your dress yet," I blurted out.
Tessa blinked, and for the first time tonight, she actually looked briefly caught off guard.
Then, just as quickly, she recovered, her smirk returning.
"Oh, love," she said, standing up in one fluid movement, the silk of her own dress slipping against her frame as she approached me once more.
She tilted my chin up, forcing me to meet her gaze.
"You're looking at it."
I stared.
Because of course she had already picked.
The gown she was wearing—a deep, rich red that seemed to glow beneath the boutique lights, with a dangerously high slit and a neckline that left little to the imagination—was unapologetically stunning.
It was effortlessly elegant, but bold. Brazen.
It was her.
And I couldn't look away.
She let me stare for a moment longer, the amusement flickering in her red eyes unmistakable.
Then—she leaned in, lips brushing just barely against the shell of my ear.
"We match, darling."
I needed to get out of here. Immediately.
The boutique suddenly felt too warm, the air too thick, and Tessa was still far too close, her perfume—something dark, floral, and intoxicating—curling around my senses like a spell I couldn't break free from.
I stepped back sharply, my pulse hammering in my ears.
"We do not match," I argued, pointing a finger at her like it was a weapon. "You picked your dress knowing exactly what you wanted, and now you're trying to drag me into your scheme."
Tessa laughed, low and pleased, tilting her head in mock innocence.
"Oh, love," she murmured, her voice pure velvet, "why would I ever do something so manipulative?"
I stared at her.
She stared back.
Neither of us blinked.
"...Tessa," I said flatly, "I will personally throw you out of this boutique."
Tessa beamed. "Bold of you to assume I wouldn't enjoy that."
I was going to lose my mind.
One of the boutique attendants cleared their throat awkwardly, reminding me that yes, in fact, we were not alone, and yes, this entire exchange had been witnessed.
I dragged a hand down my face, sighing deeply.
"Fine," I muttered. "I'll wear the dress."
Tessa perked up instantly, her red eyes glinting with victory.
"But," I continued, raising a finger before she could get smug, "if I hear one comment—one—about how scandalous I look tonight, I swear on the heavens above, I will personally—"
"—Kiss me?"
I choked.
The sheer audacity of this woman.
Tessa was grinning, obviously having the time of her life.
"That wasn't where I was going with that," I hissed.
"Pity," she sighed, shaking her head. "It was a much better ending."
I groaned, turning back toward the dressing room before I could make an even bigger mistake—like letting her see how ridiculously hot my face felt.
Behind me, I heard her chuckle.
"Take your time, love. I'll be right here, waiting."
That was exactly what I was afraid of.
The ballroom was blindingly extravagant.
Golden chandeliers hung high above, crystal strands shimmering like falling stars. The polished marble floor reflected every flickering candle, and the sheer amount of royalty and nobility gathered in one place was enough to make even the air feel heavy with importance.
And I—
I was already regretting my life choices.
I knew the second we stepped into the grand hall that this was a mistake.
Not because I was wearing a scandalous, backless dress, or because Tessa looked absolutely devastating in her red gown, or even because the place was filled with powerful royals who could ruin both of us with a single rumor.
No.
It was because Tessa Vale had taken my arm the moment we walked in, smirked at me like she was about to commit a crime, and confidently led me straight into the jaws of chaos.
The whispers started immediately.
Who is that with her?
She wasn't supposed to be here.
Isn't that…?
I exhaled sharply, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of my nose.
"Tessa," I muttered, voice low. "We're already causing a scene."
"Of course we are," she murmured back, completely unbothered, her lips brushing against my ear. "That's half the fun."
I stiffened, barely stopping myself from shoving her away.
"Tessa, do not make this worse—"
"Oh, Sera," she sighed dramatically, turning to face me with that devastating smile, "when have I ever done that?"
I stared at her.
She stared back.
We both knew the answer.
"...Fine," I said, resigned to my fate. "Just—just behave."
Tessa smirked.
"Oh, darling," she purred, stepping even closer, until her lips were a breath away from mine, her fingers ghosting over my waist in a way that made my pulse spike dangerously.
"Make me."
I was one breath away from committing a crime.
Or maybe a mistake.
Or maybe—just maybe—something far worse.
Tessa's lips hovered too close, her red eyes burning with amusement, waiting—no, daring me to do something. To react. To break first.
And I almost did.
Almost.
Instead, I exhaled sharply, grabbing her wrist and stepping away before I did something reckless, like fall into her trap—which, knowing her, was exactly what she wanted.
"Tessa," I hissed under my breath, glancing around quickly. "We are standing in the middle of a royal gala—in front of royals—and you're trying to start something?"
Tessa's smirk only grew, slow and teasing, as if she was having the time of her life.
"Oh, Sera," she whispered, letting me hold her wrist, not even trying to pull away. "You say that like you don't love it."
I did not.
Absolutely not.
I refused to acknowledge the way my pulse wasn't steady, or how the warmth of her skin against mine sent something traitorous down my spine.
I released her wrist immediately, stepping back.
"I swear," I muttered, dragging a hand down my face, "if we get thrown out, I'm blaming you."
Tessa laughed softly, flicking a loose strand of hair over her shoulder as if she were the very picture of elegance, as if she hadn't just whispered sin into my ear moments ago.
"Darling," she murmured, stepping forward again, voice honeyed with mischief, "getting thrown out was always part of the plan."
I choked.
"What?"
"Shall we dance, Sera?" she asked, completely ignoring my horror, as if she hadn't just admitted to an impending disaster.
I narrowed my eyes at her, voice low and suspicious. "You have a plan?"
Tessa smiled—devastatingly.
"Of course," she purred. "But don't worry, love. You'll enjoy it."
I doubted that.
But before I could argue, she grabbed my hand, pulled me forward, and stepped onto the grand ballroom floor with me like she had done this a thousand times before.
The orchestra swelled.
The royals turned to watch.
The game had officially begun.
And Tessa Vale?
She was about to make me lose.
Tessa's hand slid perfectly into place, resting at the curve of my waist as she guided me seamlessly into the first step of the waltz.
I tensed immediately at the closeness, at the way her grip was firm, steady, knowing, like she had always known how to handle me.
Like she was born for this.
She was a perfect dancer, of course.
Because of course she was.
Every step, every turn, perfectly executed, leading me through the dance as if I had never fought against it at all.
And maybe—just maybe—she was winning.
Because I let her.
For the first time that night, I wasn't thinking.
I wasn't trying to pull away, or escape, or talk myself out of something dangerous.
I was just moving, letting myself fall into the rhythm of her, the music, the moment.
That was until she spoke.
"You're beautiful tonight, Sera," she murmured, voice smooth and dangerous, her lips so close to my ear that I felt warmth bloom along my neck.
I nearly tripped.
She chuckled.
I scowled immediately. "Tessa."
"Yes, love?"
"You are insufferable."
She laughed again, her fingers tightening slightly at my waist, pressing me closer, her smirk unfairly charming.
"And yet," she whispered, dipping me suddenly, her lips hovering inches from mine, "you're still dancing with me."
I hated her.
And worse—I hated that she was right.
But I wasn't about to let her win so easily.
The next time we turned, I flipped the game.
Instead of letting her lead, I grabbed her by the waist, pulled her flush against me, and dipped her instead.
The shock on her face?
Priceless.
For once, Tessa Vale was the one speechless.
I smiled—slow, triumphant.
"Who's breathless now?" I whispered.
She stared at me.
Then—her lips curled into something far more dangerous.
"Oh, darling," she purred, her fingers slipping up to my collar, twisting lightly in the fabric of my dress.
Then—she kissed me.
Right there.
Right in front of everyone.
Right in the middle of the Forbidden Royal Gala.
Gasps erupted immediately, royals shouting in outrage, but the only thing I could process was the way she tasted—sweet, warm, daring.
And worse?
The way I kissed her back.
And just like that—
We had officially started a scandal.
Before I could even process the weight of what had just happened, Tessa grabbed my wrist, pulled me through the stunned crowd, and ran.
Laughter poured from her lips, completely unapologetic as she yanked me through the grand halls, down marble steps, past wide-eyed servants.
"Tessa, you absolute menace—"
"Oh, hush, love, you enjoyed it," she called back, breathless and glowing with victory.
We barely made it out into the moonlit gardens before I yanked her to a stop.
I was out of breath, flushed, completely ruined.
And Tessa?
Tessa just smiled at me like I was her favorite sin.
Her fingers brushed against my jaw, softer now, more certain.
"I meant what I said," she murmured.
I swallowed. "…About what?"
She tilted her head, her dark red eyes flickering in the candlelight.
"That you look beautiful tonight," she whispered, her voice lacking its usual mischief, its usual teasing.
This time, she wasn't trying to win.
This time, she was just being honest.
And just like that—I was the one breathless.
"…Say it again," I murmured, barely recognizing my own voice.
Tessa leaned in, slow, deliberate, intoxicatingly sure of herself.
Her hands rested lightly at my waist, her lips a whisper against mine.
"You're beautiful, Sera."
And this time?
I kissed her first.
The moment my lips met hers, everything else ceased to exist.
No scandal, no whispers, no royals lurking in the grand halls of the Forbidden Royal Gala—just her.
Just the way her fingers curled lightly around my waist, the way her lips moved against mine, slow, teasing, drawing me in like she had all the time in the world.
And maybe she did.
Maybe, just for tonight, we had all the time we needed.
I felt her smile against the kiss, and something about that sent a slow, warm ache curling in my chest—something I refused to name.
Tessa pulled back slightly, just enough to let her breath ghost over my lips, her fingers tightening slightly against the fabric of my dress.
"Finally," she murmured, her voice softer than usual, lacking its usual playful edge.
I swallowed hard, still dizzy from the warmth of her, from the weight of everything that had just happened.
"…You were waiting for me to do that?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Her red eyes flickered in the dim light, something unreadable flashing through them before she smirked—just barely, not as sharp as usual, but something gentler, something real.
"Always."
Something in me stumbled, tripped, fell off a cliff entirely.
I didn't let myself think. I just kissed her again.
This time, she didn't tease, didn't try to drag it out like a game she was playing to win.
She sank into it.
Let it linger. Let it burn deep and slow, her hands sliding up to cradle my face, fingers slipping through my hair like she had been waiting for this moment for far too long.
And maybe—just maybe—so had I.
The distant sound of voices echoed from the ballroom, snapping me back into reality.
I pulled away first, my pulse still hammering in my ears, my breath shaky as I tried to think—tried to breathe.
Tessa stayed close, her forehead lightly pressing against mine, her fingers still resting at my jaw like she wasn't quite ready to let go yet.
"…We should go," I murmured. "They'll be looking for us."
Tessa hummed, tilting her head slightly.
Her lips brushed the corner of my mouth, teasing, testing.
"Let them look."
I exhaled sharply, pressing a hand to her shoulder, gently pushing her back before I lost myself completely.
"No."
She grinned, completely unrepentant.
"Fine, fine," she relented, finally stepping away—but not before running her fingers lightly down my arm, dragging her touch out for as long as possible.
I swore I could still feel it long after she had pulled away.
Tessa smoothed down the fabric of her dress, glancing back at the gala entrance with a sigh.
"I suppose we should make a dramatic reappearance," she mused.
I groaned immediately. "Or," I argued, "we could just leave entirely."
She arched a brow, clearly entertained. "Skipping out early?"
I crossed my arms, staring her down. "After what you just did? I am not going back in there."
Tessa hummed, considering this. Then—she smirked.
"Oh, fine," she drawled, offering her arm to me. "Run away with me, love."
I stared at her, deadpan.
"…You are so dramatic."
She winked. "And yet, you're still here."
I rolled my eyes.
And yet, despite my better judgment, I took her hand.
We slipped away into the night, leaving behind one of the grandest scandals the royals world had seen in years.
And as we disappeared into the city, the stars glittering above us, I realized something terrifying.
I was in so much trouble.
Because Tessa Vale?
She was going to be the death of me.
And worse?
I didn't think I minded.
We disappeared into the quiet streets, the distant murmur of the gala fading behind us. The city at night was different, softer somehow. The glow of lanterns cast flickering golden light across cobblestone paths, and the cool night air carried the faint scent of roses from a nearby garden.
Tessa still held my hand.
I should've let go.
I didn't.
She hummed a soft tune as we walked, her other hand swinging lazily at her side, completely unbothered by the fact that we had just escaped a royal scandal of epic proportions.
I, on the other hand, was still trying to process what in the world had just happened.
I exhaled sharply, running a hand through my hair. "Do you even realize how much trouble we're in?"
Tessa glanced at me, unconcerned. "Trouble?" she echoed, tilting her head. "Oh, darling, we made history tonight."
I stared at her.
She smiled.
I groaned, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Tessa."
"Yes, love?"
I stopped walking.
She did too, turning to face me, one brow arched as she waited.
"What are we supposed to do now?" I asked, gesturing vaguely behind us. "We just—you just kissed me in front of every royals in existence, started a scandal, and now we're wandering the streets like fugitives."
Tessa pursed her lips, as if deep in thought.
Then, after a pause, she said, "Well, first, I think we should get a drink."
I blinked.
"What."
Tessa's smirk returned as she stepped closer, trailing a single finger along my arm. "Think about it, darling. We've already made an unforgettable entrance. Why not celebrate it properly?"
I stared at her, deadpan.
"You're impossible."
She grinned, leaning in just slightly. "And yet, you're still here."
Damn her.
Damn her and her stupidly perfect smile, her confidence, the way she made absolute chaos seem like an adventure I wanted to be part of.
I sighed, reluctantly resigned to my fate. "Fine."
Tessa's eyes sparked with triumph.
"Wonderful." She took my hand again, squeezing lightly before tugging me forward. "Come along, my love. Let's find the finest wine this city has to offer."
I rolled my eyes, but followed her anyway.
We wandered deeper into the quieter parts of the city, away from the grand halls of the elite, away from the suffocating rules and expectations.
Eventually, we stumbled upon a small, hidden tavern, the kind where the lanterns were dim but the air was warm, where the tables were worn with stories, where no one cared who we were or where we came from.
Perfect.
We slipped inside, settling into a private corner booth, and before I knew it, Tessa had ordered a bottle of something rich and dark, two glasses appearing before us almost instantly.
I eyed her warily as she poured, the candlelight flickering against her red dress, making her look even more dangerous than usual.
She slid a glass toward me. "To a night well spent?"
I scoffed, but lifted my glass anyway.
"To the disaster you just created."
Tessa's grin was slow, devastatingly charming.
We clinked glasses, and as I took my first sip, I found myself watching her over the rim of my glass.
She caught my gaze immediately.
Smirked.
And suddenly, it wasn't the wine making my head spin.
Damn her.
Damn me.
Because for the first time tonight, I wasn't thinking about what came next.
I was just thinking about her.
About the way she looked in the dim candlelight, the way her red dress clung to her frame, the way her eyes flickered with something deeper, something dangerous—something meant only for me.
And then—
The door clicked shut behind us.
Before I could fully process what was happening, Tessa had locked it, her movements swift, deliberate.
Then—she was on me.
Her hands, warm and sure, trailing from my waist down to my thigh, gripping, teasing, claiming, as she captured my lips in a kiss that stole the breath straight from my lungs.
I barely had time to react, barely had time to think before she pushed me back against the door, her body pressing against mine, her warmth curling around me like a slow, smoldering fire.
Her lips were soft, but her kiss was anything but.
It was hungry, daring, infuriatingly slow and teasing all at once.
I felt everything—the way she tilted her head just enough to deepen the kiss, the way her fingers traced absentminded circles against the fabric of my gown, the way her thigh slipped between mine, deliberate, teasing.
A small, helpless sound slipped from my lips before I could stop it, and that was all it took—Tessa grinned against my mouth, clearly pleased.
And then—she took her time.
Her lips moved down, brushing along my jaw, pressing kisses against the sensitive spot just beneath my ear, trailing lower, lower—
Her hands followed suit, tracing my curves, memorizing, exploring, her fingers slipping beneath the silk of my gown, caressing the bare skin of my thigh.
It was too much and not enough.
"Tessa—" I gasped, short of breath, my fingers gripping at the fabric of her dress as I struggled to stay grounded, to fight the overwhelming sensation of her everywhere at once.
She laughed softly, her lips still grazing my skin, her voice dark, rich, and far too satisfied.
"Yes, love?" she murmured, her lips barely ghosting over my collarbone, her fingers pressing just a little firmer against my thigh.
I swallowed hard, my breath shaky, my mind scattered, my body far too responsive to her touch.
And she knew it.
Damn her.
She pulled back just slightly, enough to look me in the eye, her thumb tracing slow, lazy circles along my leg.
"You're trembling," she observed, voice dangerously soft, a knowing smirk curling at the corner of her lips.
I glared at her, trying to muster up even a shred of dignity, but my body betrayed me—shivering beneath her touch, leaning into her warmth, desperate for more.
Tessa's eyes darkened with delight as she leaned in again, her lips brushing against my ear.
"I wonder," she murmured, her breath sending a sharp shiver down my spine, "how much more I can make you shake for me."
Tessa's words sent a violent shudder down my spine, the heat of her breath curling against my skin like a whispered spell.
She was still so close, her lips barely brushing my ear, her fingers tracing slow, lazy patterns against my thigh, igniting every nerve beneath her touch.
I should have pushed her away.
I should have regained control.
I did neither.
Instead, I let my head tip back against the door, my breath coming quicker now, my fingers gripping at the silk of her dress, desperate for something to hold onto.
Tessa laughed softly, the sound deep, pleased, entirely too satisfied.
"Oh, love," she murmured, lips trailing back toward mine, teasing, just barely there.
I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to fight back the haze threatening to consume me. "You talk too much."
She blinked, surprised—only for a second.
Then—I kissed her.
Hard. Unapologetic. Desperate.
And that was all it took.
Tessa's grip on my thigh tightened, her other hand slipping up my back, pulling me flush against her, pressing me further against the door as she deepened the kiss without hesitation.
She kissed me like she was staking a claim, like she had already decided I was hers and hers alone.
And worse?
I was letting her.
Her fingers pressed into my skin, tracing up my spine, her thigh pushing against me in ways that made my head spin.
I gasped into her mouth, and she broke the kiss just long enough to smirk against my lips.
"You're not fighting me anymore," she murmured, her voice dark, teasing, victorious.
I narrowed my eyes. "You're imagining things."
She laughed, tipping my chin up with her fingers, forcing me to meet her gaze.
"Am I?"
I was about to snap back, about to throw some weak, half-hearted retort her way, but then—
A sudden loud knock on the door.
I froze.
Tessa did, too—only for a brief second before she tilted her head, her lips curling back into something dangerously smug.
"Well, well," she murmured, fingers trailing up my arm, slow, lazy. "Looks like we have company."
Another knock. More urgent this time.
"Tessa Vale!" A voice—sharp, clipped, undeniably a royal.
A sinking feeling settled in my chest.
Tessa smirked.
I swallowed hard.
The door rattled.
"Open up immediately."
I turned to Tessa, my pulse jumping violently in my throat.
"Tessa," I hissed, grabbing her wrist. "What did you do?"
She only smiled, pressing a lingering kiss to my jaw before murmuring—
"Oh, darling, it's not about what I did. It's about what we just got caught doing."
"Tessa Vale! We know you're in there!"
There were banging on the door, threatening to open at any time.
I knew we were absolutely doomed, but Tessa just stared at me with a wide grin on her face.
"Come on, let's get out of here, partner in crime."