She is interupted

The calm was shattered by a bell's rhythmic sounding at the door. Emma froze, her glass of wine halfway to her lips. She hadn't expected anyone or wanted to deal with anything today.

She set the wine down, took a big sigh, and walked to the door. She pulled it open.

He was there, Ben, her eyes widened. He didn't wait for an invitation; he just stared at her with those dark, heavy eyes, his gaze scanning her body before settling on her face.

"We need to talk," he said, his voice flat and devoid of any apology. He stepped inside, forcing her to retreat into her own hallway.

Emma felt her pulse spike, not with the peace she’d cultivated, but with a panic as things were out of her control. She held her ground, trying to maintain an air of distance. "Fine. We’ll go to the kitchen."

She turned and marched toward the kitchen, hoping that the formal setting of the table would keep things civil. She needed to lay it out, that she was done, that the boundaries had to be firm, that she wouldn't be his plaything anymore. She walked to the center of the kitchen, turning to face him as he followed her in.

"Look, Ben," she started, her voice sounding steadier than she felt. "We need to discuss what happened. I can't keep doing this. I can't be-"

She didn't get to finish the sentence.

As soon as the words left her mouth, Ben moved. He closed the distance between them in two long strides, his presence immediately overwhelming the room. Before she could process his movement, he grabbed her by the hips, his large, rough hands digging into her skin with a force that made her gasp.

He didn't give her a chance to breathe. He shoved her back against the kitchen island, the cold worktop biting into her lower back, and smashed his mouth onto

It wasn't a soft, conciliatory kiss. It was aggressive, possessive, and suffocating. His tongue forced its way past her lips, claiming her mouth with the same arrogance he showed when he commanded her to strip. Emma felt her resolve shatter instantly. Her hands, which she had meant to use to push him away, betrayed her, they curled into his t-shirt, pulling him closer, grinding her body against his.

The scent of him flooded her senses, wiping away the lavender and vanilla from her earlier shower. She was supposed to be setting boundaries, but as his hand slid up from her hip to grip the back of her neck, forcing her head back to deepen the kiss, all she could do was moan into his mouth, her body liquid and already craving everything she had just told herself she would stop.