Don’t let them see.

Her words echo in my head as I stalk toward the quiet bedroom. She whispered them against my lips last night. The cool air slipped between us as she broke our kiss and slowly opened her eyes in the dark of the night.

The street light shined down around us on the back porch of her place on the Upper East Side. The city life slept quietly so late at night, or early in the morning, depending on how you look at it. Only the sinners like us were left awake.

Don’t let them see. She left me with the parting plea and here I am… giving into her wish.

I’ve never crept through anyone’s back door so late at night. Not once in my life have I had to sneak around like this.

I don’t want to keep doing this shit, but here I am. What the hell has this woman done to me? I’m wrapped around her little finger.

It’s because she’s ashamed. I know that’s why she doesn’t want people to know we’re together. Not just a fling, not a rebound fuck. There’s something more to us now, but she doesn’t want the world to know.

The floorboards creak under my weight and I hesitate in the doorway, the dim lamp from the hall filling the dark room with a hint of light. It’s her place and her neighbors aren’t going to hear, but I don’t want to disturb her.

It’s obvious she’s sleeping, but she stirs beneath the silk duvet until finally she opens her eyes and sees me. She tilts her head to the side as she looks at me, burying her cheek into the pillow, a soft smile playing on her lips.

“I missed you,” she says and her voice is laced with an equal mix of sleep and lust.

If only she knew the real reason I crave her touch. The reason I’m so tempted to break all my rules.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” I tell her in a deep, rough voice as I start unbuttoning my shirt. A smirk turns the corners of my lips up as her eyes sparkle with humor. She doesn’t care when I come and go, so long as I lie in her bed at night, or she in mine.

Her doe eyes stare back at me while I slip off the button up and let it pool into a puddle at my feet. I yank my tight white undershirt over my head and look back to see those lush lips parted.

She likes what she sees. My muscles ripple as I let the tank drop to the floor, the moonlight bathing the room and the two of us in a faint glow.

She may want to keep this a secret, but she fucking wants me and she can’t hide it. I’ve become addicted to the way she looks at me like she needs to touch me to stay grounded, just as she needs to breathe air to survive. I’ve learned to crave the faint sounds of her quickened breath as she waits for me to come to her. As if she’d die without me.

I’m slow to unbuckle my belt as my eyes roam down her curves. She’s mine to take. Mine to touch. Mine to keep.

If it were up to me, I’d take her ass outside and into the middle of the busy city street to show the world that she belongs to me now. I don’t want to sneak around anymore and I don’t give a shit who knows. I’m tired of this bullshit.

The the anger boils in my blood as I grip my leather belt tighter, making it sing in the air as I pull it through the loops and drop it to the floor with a loud clack. All the while my gaze is on her gorgeous eyes, and she’s staring back at me with the same desire as I have for her.

The past is over and done. No one will ever know what really happened -- not her, not anyone.

“Mason,” she practically whimpers my name and it pulls the beast in me closer to her. My knee dips into the bed, making it groan with my weight as I crawl over to her.

Her soft blue eyes pierce through me, cutting through the dark room. More of the soft lighting from the city slips into the room as the heat kicks on and the curtains sway. The way the light kisses her skin as she pushes the duvet away makes her all the more more beautiful.

She’s laid out for me. All for me. She fucking needs me.

I crush my lips to hers and dig my fingers into the flesh of her hips as she spreads her thighs for me. Her soft moans fill the hot air between us.

She’s ashamed to be moving on so quickly. Especially with a man like me. I wasn’t made for a woman like her. I’m someone who could tarnish her sterling reputation and make the crack in her picture-perfect frame splinter even deeper. To say I’m rough around the edges is putting it lightly, but I have what it takes to keep her.

We both know this was supposed to be a one-time thing. But now, I want more.

She thinks she’s ruined, but she’s fucking perfect. It’s my sins and my secrets that could destroy us both. I’ll never let them come to light. Not now that I have something worth fighting for.

She doesn’t know it yet, but I won’t stop until she’s mine.

She needs to get over it and just accept this for what it is.

She’s fucking mine now.