CHAPTER 5 : AURORA’S POV

The house was too quiet.

I sat awake in my room, the clock dragging past midnight. My mom and Marcelo were long asleep. I wasn’t. Sleep never came easy here. Too many shadows, too many thoughts.

Then I heard it. The front door creaking. Heavy footsteps. The scrape of shoes against the marble floor.

Ricardo.

I froze. The clock ticked louder. I shouldn’t care. I shouldn’t even move. But my legs carried me out of my room, down the dim hall, until I saw him.

He leaned against the wall, jacket half off, shirt unbuttoned at the throat. His hair was messy, his eyes dark with something I couldn’t name. Drunk, maybe. Or acting drunk. With him, it was hard to tell.

I crossed my arms. “You think sneaking in this late makes you look cool?”

His head lifted slowly, eyes locking on me. A smile tugged at his lips. “Waiting up for me, little sister?”

“Don’t call me that.” My voice came out sharper than I meant.

He chuckled low, stepping toward me. “Touchy tonight.”

“You reek of alcohol.”

“You like it?” His voice dropped, lazy and teasing.

“No.”

He came closer until the space between us was barely a breath. His heat soaked into me, his scent stronger now—whiskey, smoke, and something darker underneath.

“Then why are you still standing here?” he asked softly.

I swallowed hard. “Because someone has to make sure you don’t fall on your face.”

“You worried about me?”

I hated the way his tone curled around the words, making them sound dirty. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

His hand brushed the wall near my head. Not touching me, not yet, but close enough that my pulse jumped.

“Tell me, Aurora,” he whispered. “Do I make you nervous?”

I glared up at him. “You make me annoyed.”

He laughed under his breath, dark and rough. “Liar.”

Before I could snap back, his mouth crashed against mine.

I should have pushed him away. I didn’t. My lips parted, and his tongue slid in, hungry, claiming. A moan tore from me before I could stop it. His hand cupped the side of my face, firm, keeping me right there as he devoured me.

I pushed at his chest, but it wasn’t real. My hands curled into his shirt instead, pulling him closer.

“Fuck,” he muttered against my mouth. “You taste better than I imagined.”

“Stop talking,” I gasped, kissing him harder.

His hands slid down, gripping my hips, pressing me into the wall. His body pressed into mine, hard, unyielding. Heat surged everywhere we touched. My breath came ragged, my legs trembling.

“You’re trembling,” he whispered. His lips grazed my ear. “I haven’t even started.”

My head fell back, a soft sound spilling from me. “Ricardo…”

He caught the sound and groaned like it drove him insane. His mouth trailed down my neck, biting lightly, sucking hard enough to leave heat blooming under my skin.

“Say my name again.”

I shook my head, but he ground his hips into mine, and the word slipped out in a broken moan. “Ricardo.”

His hand slid under the hem of my shirt, rough fingertips skating over bare skin. I gasped. He leaned close, lips brushing mine.

“You want me to stop?”

My answer caught in my throat. I knew what the right answer was. I couldn’t say it.

He smirked, dark and knowing. “That’s what I thought.”

His fingers trailed lower, teasing the edge of my waistband. My breath stuttered, my body arching before I could think.

“You’re so responsive,” he murmured, kissing me again, filthy and deep. “One touch and you’re already falling apart.”

I whimpered, hating him for being right, hating myself for needing more.

“Say it,” he ordered.

“Say what?” My voice cracked.

“That you want me.” His thumb brushed slow circles over my hipbone, making my whole body ache.

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.” His tone was a command. “Say it, Aurora.”

My nails dug into his shoulders, a strangled sound tearing from me. “I want you.”

The growl in his throat vibrated against my lips. He kissed me harder, biting, owning every part of me. His hand pressed tighter, almost slipping lower before I jolted back to reality.

“Wait.” My palm flattened against his chest, shaky.

He froze, breathing hard, forehead pressed to mine. His eyes burned like fire and smoke. “Tell me to stop, and I’ll stop.”

I should have. God, I should have. My lips trembled, words sticking.

I whispered, “We can’t.”

Silence fell heavy. Then he stepped back slowly, running a hand through his hair, jaw clenched like he was barely holding himself together.

“You’re right,” he muttered. “We can’t.”

The space between us felt jagged, raw. My chest heaved, lips swollen, body throbbing with everything he started and didn’t finish.

He looked at me one last time, eyes dark and dangerous. “But you want me. And now you know I want you too.”

I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe.

He turned and walked down the hall, leaving me against the wall, shaking and ruined.

And the worst part? He was right.