Back at the estate, everything is slow and peaceful. Still glowing from that drive, from the way he opened the car door for you, the way he looked at you like nothing else in the whole city mattered.

You both rested in the lobby. The lights are low, tinted warm and soft colors. Music hums from the speakers - smooth, instrumental, romantic. Your glass is half-full. His is untouched. He sets it down, steps closer, and extends a hand toward you, his warm fingers meet yours.

“Would you like to dance with me?” He asks softly, a thought that finally made it out of his mouth.

You nod, and he draws you in. Slowly. Carefully. You sway to the slow rhythm, but every inch of him feels tense. Like he’s using every bit of control to keep something inside. His eyes never leave yours, not even for a second. Every subtle touch, every breath shared between you, it sparks and ignites.

“This… this means more than I know how to say,” he breathes against your hair. “You being here. With me.” “You look… ethereal like this. So close. So vulnerable. It undoes me.”

His lips brush the curve of your ear, not quite a kiss. “I don’t want this night to end.” He pauses, then adds with a whisper, “I don’t want you to leave.”

You don’t need to say anything. It’s obvious - in how you cling to his shirt, the way you tremble.

He leans down to pick you up, arms sweeping you off your feet easily. “Allow me,” he says.

You reach the doorway. His bedroom. City lights stretching across the bed like an invitation. He sets you down slowly, reverently, like this moment is sacred. And in his eyes - you see it. Everything he’s kept hidden. Want. Fear. Devotion.

“No one else has ever been here,” he confesses quietly, tracing fingers along your cheek. “Only you... It feels different with you.”

“You have no idea... how hard it is to stay a gentleman when you sit there looking at me like that.” He says, as you sit down on the bed, looking up at him.

There it is. That slip. A spark of fire in his crimson eyes - borderline feral. And with that he starts walking toward the bed…

“Go on,” he continues, closing the distance with maddening calm. “Keep testing me.”

“I’ll forget every ounce of restraint I’ve spent years perfecting... And then, my dear, I will make a mess of you.”