(Tom's POV)
I couldn't breathe. My chest tightened as she straddled me, her soft skin pressing against mine, her scent filling the air around us. Lilac's lips were soft, insistent, as she kissed me deeply, sending shockwaves through my body that I hadn't felt in so long.
What the hell was I doing?
I couldn't focus. My mind was a blur of confusion, of guilt, of memories of my late wife. But beneath all of that was something I couldn't deny—the undeniable, throbbing desire that had been stirring within me ever since Lilac first entered this room.
She was so damn persistent. Every time I thought I could pull away, she was right there, kissing me again, coaxing me back into the heat of the moment. Her hands were everywhere, moving over my chest, undoing buttons I hadn't even realized she was touching. The softness of her touch sent shivers through me, making it harder and harder to think clearly.
I pulled away, gasping for air, my hands resting on her waist as I tried to steady myself. "Lilac," I murmured, my voice rough, but my gaze never leaving her. "We can't do this. You're too young. You deserve someone—someone your own age."
She didn't listen. She just leaned in, kissing me again, her hands sliding down my chest to the waistband of my pants. I felt her body shift against mine, felt the heat of her skin against me, and all I wanted to do was lose myself in it. But I couldn't.
I couldn't.
I needed to stop this. I needed to push her away, to remind myself that this wasn't right. That she was my best friend's daughter. That she was far too young for someone like me, someone who was still mourning the woman I had loved for so long.
But her persistence was maddening. She didn't give up, didn't stop kissing me, didn't let me retreat. The way she was touching me, the way she was looking at me—there was no turning back from this. I could feel my resolve crumbling.
"Please, Tom," she whispered against my lips, her breath hot and needy. "I've wanted this for so long. I've waited for you. I love you."
Her words struck me like a physical blow. I wanted to believe her, wanted to think that maybe, just maybe, she was right—that we could have something. But I knew better. I knew the consequences, the devastation this would cause.
Yet, the way her body moved against mine, the way she kissed me like she was starving for me, made it harder and harder to pull away.
God help me, I wanted her.
But I couldn't let this happen.
"Stop, Lilac," I breathed, my hands gripping her shoulders, pushing her away slightly. "Please, just stop."
She didn't move. She just stared at me with those eyes—those wide, pleading eyes that made my chest ache.
"I can't stop, Tom," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I need you. I've always needed you."
And damn it, that was what shattered me.
(Lilac's POV)
He was still fighting it. I could see it in his eyes, the way his chest rose and fell, the way his hands gripped my shoulders, pushing me back just slightly. He was trying to resist. Trying to push me away.
But I wouldn't let him. I couldn't.
His words hurt, but they only made me more determined. I wasn't going to let him back out now, not when we were so close. Not when I had been waiting for this moment for so long.
I leaned in again, pressing my lips to his, soft and pleading, coaxing him to give in. He didn't kiss me back at first, his lips hesitant, but I could feel the tension in his body starting to break.
"Tom," I whispered, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes. "You're the only one I've ever wanted. I've loved you since I was thirteen. Don't you feel it? The way we fit together?"
I could see the war in his eyes—desire battling against his sense of responsibility. He didn't want this. I knew that. But I wasn't going to stop.
"I can't help how I feel," I said, my voice thick with longing. "And I know you feel it too. Don't deny it."
He let out a strangled breath, his fingers digging into my hips as if he were trying to hold himself back. "Lilac… this is wrong," he muttered, his voice rough. "You're too young. You don't know what you're asking for."
But I did know. I knew exactly what I wanted.
I kissed him again, harder this time, my tongue seeking his, pulling him deeper into the kiss. I could feel his body responding, his breath coming faster, and it was like a victory in itself.
I could tell he was losing control. His hands were no longer pushing me away—they were pulling me closer, tracing the curves of my body like he couldn't help himself. And that was all I needed to know.
I slowly slid my hands down his chest, feeling his muscles tense under my touch. I wanted to take my time, to savor every moment of this, but I couldn't. I needed him now.
"I've been waiting for this," I whispered against his lips, my hands reaching for the waistband of his pants. "Please, Tom. Let me have you. Let me be yours."
He gasped, pulling away just enough to look at me, his expression a mixture of desire and guilt. "Lilac, I—"
But I didn't let him finish. I kissed him again, harder this time, and as I did, I could feel his resistance slipping away. His hands slid down my back, pulling me closer to him. I was on top of him again, my body flush against his, and I could feel his desire growing beneath me.
His resolve was weakening.
And mine was only getting stronger.