You Are Still Mine
Her gaze is terrifying: a mix of pure lust and a fierce control that reminds me exactly who commands this space.
"Say it," she whispers against my lips. Her breath tastes of expensive champagne and desire. "Say you're mine."
"Amy..." I beg, my head spinning out of control.
"Say it, Camila. Or I'll leave you in this elevator right now, and you'll never see me again."
The panic of losing her, of having this contact cut short, is stronger than my pride.
"I'm yours," I whisper, the confession tearing from my soul like a sigh of total surrender. "I'm yours, Amy."