The Proposition III

2 AM, Townhouse, Annecy

Sam didn't say anything, and she did nothing. 

Too afraid to say yes, too weak to say no.

"Tell me to stop." He whispered, lips brushing against hers as he spoke. And when she didn't talk, he grabbed her chin softly with his right hand and pressed his lips against hers.

He kissed her, slow and soft, reining in the primal desire within him to trap her between his body and the counter and devour her completely. He didn't want to push too hard, but every passing second made his walls of control crumble down piece by piece.

Breath got caught in Sam's throat, her eyes widening a fraction when she felt his soft lips pressed firmly against hers. 

It wasn't their first kiss; it wasn't the second either. Technically it was their fourth.

The first one was a misunderstanding.--At the bar, when he first asked for her assistance on a case, he was working on.