Where Only You Exist

The night air was thick with the scent of rain, the streets slick with the remnants of a storm that had passed only hours ago. Nathaniel stood beside his car, gripping the wheel as he stared at the small, dimly lit café where she had told him to meet her. His pulse had been unsteady ever since her message, since the moment she had asked him to meet in a place where no one could interrupt them.

He knew what that meant.

He knew what it could lead to.

And yet, he was already here. Already caught in her pull, unable to resist the gravity of her presence.

He pushed open the door and stepped inside. The café was nearly empty, the faint hum of soft music drifting through the air, the glow of the overhead lights casting shadows along the walls. And there she was, sitting in the back corner, her fingers wrapped around a cup of tea, her dark eyes watching him with an intensity that sent a slow, simmering heat through his veins.

He swallowed hard, walking toward her. She didn't smile, didn't greet him like a student meeting her professor, didn't acknowledge the weight of everything that had happened between them in his office only hours ago. But it was there, in the way her breath hitched when he slid into the seat across from her, in the way her fingers trembled slightly when she set her cup down.

"Elena," he murmured.

She exhaled, her eyes flickering down to the table before meeting his again. "I couldn't stay away."

Neither could he.

His hand reached for hers without thinking, his fingers brushing against the soft warmth of her skin. She let him. Let him lace his fingers through hers, let him draw slow circles against the back of her hand with his thumb. The connection between them was undeniable, tangible, and dangerous.

She leaned in slightly, her voice softer now, breathless. "Nathaniel… I don't want to pretend anymore."

He felt it then—the final unraveling of his restraint. He had tried to fight this, tried to convince himself that what they had was nothing more than fleeting desire, but it was more than that. It had always been more than that. And now, as she sat before him, looking at him like he was the only thing in the world that mattered, he knew there was no turning back.

His fingers tightened around hers, his voice rough, unsteady. "Then don't."

Her breath caught, her lips parting slightly, and he knew she understood.

The ride to his apartment was silent, but the air between them was thick with anticipation. He had barely gotten the door unlocked before she was on him, her hands pulling at his jacket, her lips crashing against his in a kiss that burned through every inch of him. He groaned, backing her against the door, his hands framing her face as he deepened the kiss, pouring everything he had into it.

She responded with the same desperation, her fingers tangled in his hair, her body arching into his like she couldn't bear to have space between them. He needed her—needed to feel her, to claim her, to make her his in a way that no one else ever had.

"Elena," he breathed, his lips trailing down the curve of her jaw, over the sensitive skin of her throat, tasting the shuddering gasps that escaped her. Her hands clutched at him, pulling him closer as if she was just as lost in this as he was.

He lifted her effortlessly, carrying her to the couch, settling between her legs as he kissed her deeply, hungrily, his hands roaming, memorizing every inch of her. She was soft beneath him, her body pressing against his in ways that made his control slip further and further away.

She arched beneath him, her voice a breathless whisper. "Nathaniel…"

And that was it.

The last thread of restraint snapped.

His mouth claimed hers again, his hands gripping her hips, pulling her against him, his body pressing her into the cushions, into the heat of the moment. She wanted this. Needed this just as much as he did. He could feel it in the way she gasped his name, in the way she trembled beneath his touch, in the way she gave herself to him without hesitation.

There was no longer a world outside of this room. No lectures, no students, no rules—only them, only this, only the fire that refused to die between them.

And as he lost himself in her, as he whispered her name like a prayer, he knew one thing for certain.

He could never let her go.

The warmth of her breath against his neck sent a shiver down his spine, her fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt as if she feared he would disappear. But he was here, with her, holding her so close that he could feel the wild beat of her heart against his own. His hand trailed up her back, fingers threading through the soft waves of her hair as he pulled her even closer, his lips never breaking from hers. She tasted like honey and longing, like the kind of temptation that left a permanent mark, and Nathaniel knew he was ruined.

She sighed into his kiss, her body pressing into his, molding against him like she belonged there. His hands roamed slowly, deliberately, as if memorizing every curve, every reaction, every subtle tremor that whispered through her. She gasped when his lips trailed down the column of her throat, his teeth grazing against her skin in a way that made her fingers dig into his shoulders.

"Nathaniel," she whispered, her voice carrying an edge of pleading, of need, of something that neither of them could fight anymore.

Hearing his name fall from her lips like that, so full of unspoken desire, sent a fierce heat surging through him. He wanted to devour her, to claim every inch of her, to make her forget the world outside this moment. He had spent so long holding back, so long pretending he could keep his distance, but now that she was in his arms, he knew he would never be able to stop.

His fingers traced a slow path down her spine, eliciting a shudder from her as she clung to him. The way she reacted to his touch, the way she surrendered to him so completely, made something primal awaken in him. He wanted to explore every part of her, to learn what made her gasp, what made her tremble, what made her whisper his name in that breathless, aching way.

And she was just as desperate, her hands sliding under his shirt, fingertips mapping the hard planes of his torso as if she needed to know him just as intimately. Her touch sent heat curling through his veins, setting him on fire in ways he had never known before. This wasn't just desire—this was something deeper, something that went beyond reason, beyond logic. This was a craving that could never be satisfied.

She pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, her lips swollen from his kisses, her eyes dark with something that stole the very breath from his lungs. "Do you regret this?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper as if she was terrified of the answer.

His hands cupped her face, his thumb brushing against her cheek with aching tenderness. "Never," he breathed, his voice rough with truth. "I could never regret you."

Her lips parted, something unreadable flickering in her expression, something raw and vulnerable, something that made his chest tighten. And then she was kissing him again, her arms wrapping around his neck as she pulled him closer, as if she could fuse them, as if she never wanted to let go.

And neither did he.

Time blurred into nothingness, the world outside fading until only they remained. Nathaniel had never felt this way before—so completely consumed, so utterly lost in another person. He had always been in control, always been the man who kept his distance, who never let anyone too close. But Elena had shattered all of that. She had torn down every wall, broken through every defense, and now he was standing in the ruins, willingly, helplessly, completely hers.

He trailed kisses along her collarbone, breathing her in, memorizing the softness of her skin, the way she trembled beneath his touch. She was exquisite, and she was here, in his arms, looking at him like he was the only man in the world.

The thought sent a fierce rush of possessiveness through him. She was his. Even if the world didn't know it yet, even if they had to keep this hidden, she belonged to him just as much as he belonged to her.

And yet, a small part of him knew that this moment—this stolen time together—wouldn't last forever. Reality would come crashing back in the morning, with its consequences, with its questions. But right now, none of that mattered. Right now, all he cared about was her.

Elena shifted, pressing her lips to his jaw, her fingers tracing patterns along his arm. "Stay with me," she murmured.

He let out a slow breath, resting his forehead against hers. "I'm not going anywhere," he promised.

And in that moment, he meant every word.