A soft moan escaped Nevaeh's lips as Mordred's kisses deepened, his touch sending fire coursing through her veins. She tangled her fingers into his hair, pulling him closer as her lips finally captured his—her tongue teasing its way into his mouth, meeting his in a slow, intoxicating dance.
Mordred groaned, gripping her waist tighter, his restraint hanging by a thread.
Nevaeh pulled back slightly, her lips barely brushing his as she whispered, "Now… you want that one-night stand?"
Mordred froze. His darkened gaze locked onto hers, chest rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath.
Nevaeh smirked, dragging her fingers down his torso. "Say the word, Mordred."
But instead of answering, he suddenly pulled away, running a frustrated hand through his hair.
"Damn it, Nevaeh." His voice was hoarse, filled with both desire and irritation.
Nevaeh chuckled, leaning against the closet door, watching him with amused eyes. "What? You started it."
Mordred shot her a glare. "You started this the moment you walked into my life."
She shrugged playfully. "And I don't regret it."
He exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples. "Get out, Nevaeh."
She pouted dramatically. "Not even a goodbye kiss?"
Mordred shot her a deadly look, and Nevaeh just laughed, sauntering toward the door. As she passed him, she trailed a teasing finger along his jaw.
"You'll give me what I want, eventually." She whispered before slipping out of the room, leaving Mordred standing there—frustrated, breathless, and undeniably hooked
Mordred stood in his closet for a moment, running a hand through his damp hair. The taste of Nevaeh still lingered on his lips, the teasing way she touched him still burning on his skin. He exhaled sharply, shaking his head.
Damn that woman.
After a cold shower—because he needed one—he stepped out, only to find Nevaeh lounging on his couch, arms crossed, a smug little smile playing on her lips.
"You're still here?" He arched a brow.
"Of course," she shrugged. "I'm waiting for my review video. You did say I'd get what I want eventually, didn't you?"
Mordred sighed, running a towel over his damp hair.
"Fine. I'll do it."
Nevaeh sat up straight, eyes gleaming. "Really?"
"Yes," he smirked, "but on my terms."
Nevaeh narrowed her eyes, intrigued. "What terms?"
Mordred leaned down, resting his hands on either side of the couch, trapping her in.
"You'll see." His voice was low, teasing, sending shivers down her spine.
Nevaeh blinked, momentarily caught off guard by how effortlessly he could switch the game. But then she smiled, tilting her head up to meet his gaze.
"I like the sound of that."
Nevaeh leaned back into the couch, crossing her legs as she studied him with a knowing smile.
"But before that, Sir Mordred… did you enjoy the romance?" Her voice dripped with amusement. "Because you were eating me up."
Mordred chuckled, shaking his head as he grabbed a glass of water from the nearby table.
"Bet no woman has gotten to see this side of you before," she added, watching his reaction closely.
He took a sip, then set the glass down, tilting his head. "Did you enjoy it?"
Nevaeh scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Obviously."
Mordred smirked. "Then why ask me?"
She bit her lip, standing up slowly, closing the space between them. Her fingers lightly traced over his bare arm, her eyes dark with mischief.
"What I don't get… is why you're acting like you don't want me to ride you in bed." Her voice was a whisper, taunting, daring him.
Mordred inhaled sharply, his jaw tightening.
"Nevaeh…"
"Hmm?" She leaned in, her lips brushing against his jaw. "Say it, Mordred. Say you don't want it."
Mordred clenched his fists, his body betraying him with the way it responded to her touch.
She was pushing him.
And damn it, it was working.
Mordred exhaled sharply, his gaze locked onto Nevaeh's as he finally gave in.
"Okay, fine... I do." His voice was firm, his resolve breaking under her teasing.
Nevaeh's smirk widened. "You do what?"
"I want you." His eyes darkened with intensity. "But not for just one night. If anything happens between us in bed, I have to keep you forever—not just that night."
Nevaeh's breath hitched, her confidence flickering for a second. "So you admit you're in love with me?"
Mordred scoffed, stepping closer, cupping her face gently but possessively. "If I wasn't, do you think I would have touched you like that?"
Nevaeh swallowed hard, her heart racing. His touch was different now—deeper, more meaningful.
"I love you so freaking much," he confessed, his voice thick with emotion.
A warmth spread through Nevaeh's chest, making her bite her lip. Then, she smiled softly, placing her hands on his.
"And I love you too, Mordred."
For once, she wasn't teasing.
And for once, Mordred wasn't running.
They stood there, inches apart, their breaths mingling in the charged silence.
Then Nevaeh leaned in, pressing her lips against his—soft, slow, but with an intensity that sent heat rushing through both of them. Mordred responded instinctively, his hands tightening around her waist, pulling her closer.
As their lips parted slightly, Nevaeh whispered against his mouth, her voice playful yet filled with something deeper.
"I love how your lips taste..." She let out a soft, teasing sigh before adding, "Thank goodness you aren't my man. I would have been kissing you every second around you."
Mordred narrowed his eyes, his grip on her waist tightening. "Oh? And what makes you think I won't make you mine?"
Nevaeh smirked, her fingers tracing his jaw. "Because you like the chase, Mordred. And I? I love making you work for it."
He chuckled, shaking his head. "You're dangerous, Nevaeh."
She grinned. "And you love it."
And the truth was… he did.