The playful conversation between them stretched into the night, laughter filling the space like they had been lovers for years. But then, the rain started—heavy, relentless, turning the city into a blur of silver streaks.
Nevaeh sighed dramatically, peeking through the window. "Great. Now I'm stuck here. What if I actually wanted to leave?"
Mordred smirked, leaning against the wall. "Then leave."
She turned to glare at him. "Do you see that storm outside? Even if I wanted to, I can't. Besides..." She stretched lazily. "I need a shower."
Mordred raised a brow. "Are you asking for permission?"
"Nope. Just stating facts," Nevaeh grinned before disappearing into the bathroom.
When she emerged, her damp hair fell in soft waves over Mordred's oversized hoodie, which drowned her frame but somehow made her look even more stunning. The sleeves covered most of her hands, making her look almost delicate, yet completely at home.
Mordred, who had been casually scrolling through his phone, glanced up and nearly dropped it.
"You're enjoying this too much," he muttered, shifting his gaze back to the screen, though his smirk betrayed him.
Nevaeh plopped onto the couch beside him, stealing some of his popcorn. "Well, if I'm stuck here, I might as well make myself comfortable."
She grabbed the remote and scrolled through the movie options, finally settling on a romantic drama.
Mordred groaned. "Seriously? Out of all movies?"
"Shh, let the married couple enjoy their movie night," Nevaeh teased, leaning against him.
Mordred sighed, shaking his head. But as the rain continued to pour, and Nevaeh snuggled deeper into his hoodie, he couldn't help but think—maybe being stuck with her wasn't so bad after all.
Mordred tried—he really did—to focus on the movie. But how could he when Nevaeh was practically draped over him like a second skin?
Her hands wandered lazily across his chest, her fingers tracing the outline of his muscles through his shirt. Every few minutes, she would shift, snuggle closer, and then—there it was—a soft kiss on his neck.
"Nevaeh..." he muttered, his voice tight.
"Hmm?" she hummed innocently, her lips brushing against his jaw this time.
"Stop distracting me."
She giggled, her fingers now playing with the hem of his shirt. "Oh please, like you're even watching the movie."
Mordred exhaled sharply, tilting his head back against the couch. "I'm trying to."
Nevaeh smirked and pressed another kiss just below his ear. "And I'm trying to have my fun."
He turned to face her, his gaze darkening. "You're pushing it."
She shrugged, eyes twinkling with mischief. "And what are you gonna do about it?"
Mordred smirked, grabbing her waist and flipping her so she was underneath him on the couch. He hovered over her, their faces inches apart.
"You really want to play this game with me?" he murmured, his breath warm against her lips.
Nevaeh's heartbeat quickened, but she held his gaze, completely unbothered. "Maybe I just want to see how far you'll let me go."
Mordred stared at her for a long moment, then chuckled, shaking his head. "You're impossible."
He rolled off her and sat back up, but Nevaeh only grinned, cuddling into his side again. "And you love it."
Mordred sighed dramatically, but the way his arm instinctively wrapped around her said otherwise.
Mordred turned his head slightly, watching Nevaeh as she rested against him. Her words lingered in his mind—Do you like the peace you're experiencing right now?
Peace. It was something he rarely had. His life had always been chaotic—fame, expectations, betrayals. But here, with her, wrapped up in his hoodie, teasing him like she always did… it felt different.
"I want you to know you deserve all this, Mordred." Her voice was softer now, sincere.
He exhaled slowly, feeling warmth spread through his chest. She always had a way of getting under his skin, but moments like this made him realize—maybe she wasn't just playing around. Maybe she really saw him.
Nevaeh tilted her head up, grinning. "Hmm... ain't my boyfriend cute?" she teased, poking his cheek.
Mordred chuckled, shaking his head. "You're ridiculous."
"And you love it."
He smiled at her, a genuine one this time. "Thank you."
Nevaeh raised an eyebrow. "For what?"
Mordred shrugged, looking back at the screen. "For being… you."
She stared at him for a moment before a slow smile crept onto her lips. "You're welcome, lover boy."
And just like that, the moment passed—soft, unspoken, but deeply felt.
Nevaeh smirked, settling back into his embrace. The movie played in the background, but neither of them was paying much attention. Mordred absentmindedly traced patterns on her arm, lost in thought.
"You know, Mordred, you're kinda cute when you let your guard down."
Mordred scoffed. "I don't let my guard down."
Nevaeh turned her head to look at him, her lips curving in amusement. "Oh really? So, I suppose letting me wear your hoodie, cuddle you, and kiss you all evening is just business as usual for you?"
He smirked but didn't respond.
Nevaeh took that as her win. She playfully poked his chest. "Admit it, you like having me around."
Mordred rolled his eyes, but the corners of his lips twitched. "You're tolerable."
"Tolerable?" she repeated, raising an eyebrow. "Mordred, please. You were about to devour me earlier, and now you're acting like I'm just another woman in your life."
Mordred turned to her, his eyes darkening slightly. "That's exactly why you're not just another woman, Nevaeh."
His words hung in the air between them, thick with meaning.
Nevaeh's smirk faltered slightly as she met his gaze. There was something in the way he looked at her—something raw, something she hadn't seen in him before.
"Mordred..." she started, her voice softer now.
He reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "You get on my nerves, you push my buttons, and you don't respect boundaries… but for some reason, I don't want you to stop."
Nevaeh's breath hitched. This wasn't teasing anymore. This was real.
"Then I won't," she whispered, her fingers trailing along his jawline.
Mordred exhaled sharply, his hand tightening around her waist. "Nevaeh, what are you doing to me?"
She smiled, leaning in closer, her lips barely brushing his. "Exactly what you need."
Just then, thunder rumbled outside, the rain intensifying.
It felt like a storm was brewing—not just outside, but between them.
The rain drummed against the windows, filling the silence between them. The tension in the room was almost unbearable, thick with unspoken emotions and unsatisfied desires.
Nevaeh's fingers traced over Mordred's collarbone, her touch featherlight but deliberate. He wasn't stopping her.
"You're so quiet," she whispered, her breath fanning against his lips. "Are you nervous?"
Mordred chuckled lowly, his grip on her waist tightening. "I should be."
"Why?" she tilted her head.
"Because you… you make me lose control." His voice was deeper now, rough with restraint.
Nevaeh smirked. "And here I thought you were all about control."
Mordred exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "You're dangerous, Nevaeh."
"And you like danger, don't you?"
Before he could respond, she kissed him. It wasn't teasing this time, nor was it rushed. It was slow, deliberate, meant to unravel him bit by bit.
And it worked.
Mordred let out a low groan, pulling her onto his lap. The feel of her warmth, her scent, the way she fit against him—it was intoxicating.
For the first time in years, he wasn't thinking about his career, his past, or his carefully built walls.
All he could think about was her.
Nevaeh pulled away slightly, staring into his stormy eyes. "Tell me you don't want this, and I'll stop."
Mordred looked at her—really looked at her.
The woman who had barged into his life without permission. The woman who challenged him, teased him, and somehow made him feel seen in a way no one else ever had.
"I can't," he admitted. "Because I do."
A slow, victorious smile spread across Nevaeh's lips.
"Then stop holding back."
Mordred didn't need to be told twice.
He kissed her again, deeper this time, with all the passion he had been holding back. His hands roamed her back, pulling her impossibly closer.
The rain outside only grew louder, as if the storm was a reflection of what was happening inside.
Whatever this was between them—it was reckless. It was intense.
And neither of them wanted to stop.
The tension had been building for too long. Every stolen glance, every teasing remark, every accidental—or intentional—touch had led to this moment.
The rain continued to pour outside, but inside Mordred's penthouse, the atmosphere was thick with heat.
Nevaeh straddled him, their breaths mingling as they stared at each other. Her fingers ran through his damp hair, and Mordred's hands rested firmly on her waist, his grip tightening as if grounding himself.
"Are you sure?" His voice was hoarse, his self-control hanging by a thread.
Nevaeh smirked, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "Do I look unsure?"
That was all it took.
Mordred crushed his lips against hers, no longer holding back. Their bodies molded together, hands roaming, exploring, memorizing. His hoodie on her barely covered anything, and with one swift motion, it was gone, leaving only heated skin against skin.
He carried her effortlessly, pinning her against the wall, his lips tracing fire along her jawline, down her neck, past her collarbone. Nevaeh's breath hitched, her nails digging into his back.
"Mordred…" she whispered, her voice laced with anticipation.
His response was a deep groan, filled with unspoken emotions. He had spent so long keeping people at a distance, but Nevaeh had shattered that boundary with ease.
They made their way to his bedroom, lost in each other. Clothes were discarded without hesitation, and when they finally collapsed onto the bed, there was no hesitation—only raw, unfiltered passion.
Mordred wasn't just making love to her. He was claiming her, worshiping her, as if making up for all the times he had denied himself this kind of connection.
Nevaeh met him with equal intensity, her body responding to every touch, every kiss, every whispered name.
Time blurred between slow, intoxicating movements and desperate, feverish need.
And when they finally reached the peak together, tangled in each other's embrace, it wasn't just lust. It was something deeper.
Something neither of them was ready to admit out loud just yet.
As they lay there afterward, Nevaeh traced lazy patterns on his chest, her head resting against his shoulder.
"You're mine now, you know that, right?" she murmured playfully.
Mordred chuckled, pulling her closer. "I think you made that very clear."
Nevaeh grinned, pressing a soft kiss to his skin. "Good."
And for the first time in a long time, Mordred didn't feel trapped.
He felt free.