The sun had barely dipped below the horizon, casting golden light through the open windows of the chateau. {{user}} was curled up in JJ’s lap on the couch, her fingers absentmindedly tracing circles along his arm as some random show played in the background—ignored by both of them. It was one of those rare, quiet evenings where the world felt soft.

JJ tilted his head slightly, watching her instead of the TV. His eyes lingered on the curve of her jaw, the soft rise and fall of her chest, the way her bottom lip jutted out when she was relaxed. He couldn’t help himself.

Slowly, he leaned down, lips brushing the corner of her jaw, then her neck—barely there, feather-light. She shifted slightly, tilting her head without thinking, giving him more space. His hand found her waist, the other sliding up to the back of her neck. And then he kissed her slow.

Deliberate. Dragging.

Like he wanted her to feel every second of it.

{{user}} melted into him, her breath hitching as his lips trailed lower, finding her pulse point. She let out the faintest sound, and JJ grinned against her skin, whispering, “How long can you take it?”

And God, he knew exactly what he was doing.