Page 80 of Gabriel

“I don’t know what you’re doing, Santos,” she said. “If this is some kind of game?—”

“It’s not.”

“But—”

“Tell me you didn’t feel anything when you kissed me,” I said. “This thing between us—it’s been simmering for years. And now that I’ve tasted your lips, and you’ve tasted mine, it’s not going away.”

She didn’t respond. Not with words.

I reached out and touched her wrist with two fingers, light and steady.

Her skin was warm. She didn’t pull away.

“I’m not asking you to trust me,” I said. “But don’t run.”

Her breath was shallow now, the rise and fall of her chest matching mine.

“I’m not afraid of what’s between us,” I added. “You shouldn’t be either.”

Her lips parted like she was going to argue, but then she moved—fast, decisive—and kissed me again. Harder this time. Hotter.

Desperate.

It wasn’t gentle. It was a crack in the dam, years of pressure rushing through. Her hands fisted in my hair, pulling me closer, and I gripped her waist, dragging her against me despite the awkward twist of my cuffed wrist.

The mattress groaned beneath us. The metal shackle on my other wrist scraped softly against the headboard.

We only broke apart when we had to because we were too breathless.

“This changes nothing,” she whispered, but her voice trembled.

I smiled, just barely. “It changes everything. You’re chaos to my control. Don’t fear this thing between us,preciosa.”

And this time, she didn’t argue.

Instead, she fastened the cuff back around my wrist with a soft click and walked out the door.

Amara

The door snicked shut behind me, but the sound stayed lodged in my chest.

I didn’t move. Not at first.

My hand hovered next to me, fingers curled, body still too full of heat. Not just from him. From the truth of it all. I’d been walking this line for far too long, pretending the pull between us was friction instead of gravity, and today, it came to a head.

I walked away from his cabin slowly, my body feeling raw now—stripped of the armor I’d grown accustomed to wearing.

I’d kissed him.

Even worse, I’d wanted it.Neededit.

I was ready to let it shake something loose inside of me that I’d kept bolted down for years. Ever since we first crossed paths at D’Arc.

And my mind flitted back to my first months on campus, and this enigmatic man—Gabriel—I kept running into.

The sun struck the courtyard with merciless brilliance—too bright for comfort. The air smelled like freshly turned stone and ambition.

I was in my third week.