Aiden POV
I told her to sleep in the guest room.
Said it like I meant it. Like I had any real control left. Like sending her down the hall would silence the fire under my skin. It was a joke. I knew it the moment I poured another drink.
God, she was beautiful.
Even now, the memory of her—lips parted, cheeks flushed, body trembling around me as she moaned my name—burned behind my eyelids like a brand. She'd fallen asleep like that, with me still inside her, like she belonged there.
I hated her for it.
And I hated myself more for wanting her anyway.
I don't remember walking. Just that one second I was staring into my drink, and the next, I was outside her room. Not the guest room. Her room. The one I said she couldn't have. The one I hoped she'd never leave.
My hand hovered over the doorknob.
I should've walked away.
But I opened it.
