Hunter hadn't meant to lose control.
Not with her.
Not like this.
But the second Eden whispered, "I want you," something dark and dangerous snapped loose inside him. The rules he'd set—the line he'd drawn between training and taking—blurred into dust.
She wanted him.
Not the man she thought she was training for.
Not some imaginary boy she dreamed about in the dark.
Him.
His name on her tongue had almost broken him. Almost.
If she had said it—if she'd whispered "Hunter" at that moment—he might have taken her right there against the library wall, contract or not, innocence be damned.
But she didn't.
Not yet.
And that tiny thread of hesitation, that one sliver of control he still had left, was the only thing keeping him from destroying her with the weight of what he truly felt.
Because Hunter Grayson wasn't just teaching her how to seduce someone else.
He was falling for her.
Hard.
Dangerously hard.
And she had no idea.
Eden couldn't sleep.
Not after what happened in the library.
Not after the way he touched her… and stopped.
Not after the way his mouth had claimed hers like he was drowning and she was the only breath he trusted.
She lay in bed, her fingers clutching the edge of her sheets, her thighs pressed together in silent torture. Every nerve in her body ached with the memory of his hands. The echo of his words.
"I want your first orgasm to be when you scream my name."
Her body shivered again at the thought.
But even more than the lust, something else haunted her.
The way his voice broke when she said she didn't want the other guy anymore.
The way his hands trembled when she said she wanted him.
Was it possible?
Could he be feeling what she was feeling?
She closed her eyes, picturing his face.
There was still so much she didn't understand. Why he was doing this. Why her. Why now.
But she knew one thing with bone-deep certainty
If this was a game…
She didn't want to play with anyone else but him.
The next morning, he wasn't in class
Eden stirred slowly, her lashes fluttering as the sunlight painted golden streaks across the bedsheets.
For a moment, she didn't move.
She just listened.
To the sound of steady breathing beside her.
To the weight of an arm still slung possessively over her waist.
To her heart, still pounding like it had the night before—like it hadn't stopped since his hands claimed her.
She turned her head slightly.
And there he was.
Hunter.
Lying next to her, shirtless, his skin warm and golden in the morning light, one hand tangled in her hair as if even in sleep, he refused to let her go.
He looked peaceful.
Dangerously beautiful.
And all hers.
At least, for now.
His voice was thick with sleep when he spoke.
"You're staring."
Her breath caught. "You were awake?"
"Woke up the second your thighs shifted over mine." His lips curved, lazy and smug. "You're not exactly subtle, baby."
Eden flushed. "Sorry…"
Hunter opened one eye. "Don't you dare apologize for last night."
She swallowed. "You… liked it?"
He rolled toward her, pinning her beneath his body, arms caging her in.
His lips brushed her collarbone. "I liked the way you moaned my name."
Her pulse skipped.
"I liked the way you gave in to me. Completely. No fear. No shame."
His mouth moved lower, lips pressing a kiss to the curve of her breast.
"But what I liked most…" he murmured, "…was that you didn't fake a single thing."
Eden smiled softly. "How do you know I didn't?"
Hunter's voice turned rough. "Because if you had, you'd be able to look me in the eyes right now."
She buried her face in his neck.
He laughed quietly and kissed her forehead.
"I want you to know something," he said after a pause. "Last night… it wasn't just sex for me."
Eden's heart flipped. "What was it, then?"
Hunter looked down at her for a long moment.
His voice dropped to a whisper. "It was the first time I felt like I could… lose control. And be okay with it."
Her fingers curled around his forearm. "You don't always have to be in control."
His jaw clenched. "But I've never had anything worth losing before."
---
Later, she stood in front of the mirror, wrapped in only one of his oversized shirts.
He came up behind her, hands sliding around her waist.
"Where are you going?" he murmured against her neck.
"Back to my place. Just for a few hours. I need to… think."
His arms tightened. "About what?"
Eden hesitated.
But then she reached into her bag and pulled out something.
Two small panties. One white. One black.
She held them up with trembling fingers.
"I have to meet Liam today," she whispered. "And I don't know what to wear."
Hunter's entire body turned to stone.
"What?"
Eden blinked. "I just need closure. I need to see him… and know that I don't want him anymore."
Hunter stared at the two pieces of fabric in her hands.
White. Innocent.
Black. Bold.
His throat worked. His fists clenched. And in his mind, all he could think was:
Don't get hard. Don't get hard in front of her.
But it was too late.
She caught the way his eyes darkened. The way his breath hitched.
He stepped forward slowly and took the black one from her hand.
"If you're going to meet the boy you once loved," he said, voice low and lethal, "at least don't let him think you're still sweet."
Her lips parted. "Hunter—"
He cupped her chin.
"Go meet him. But don't forget…" His thumb brushed her lower lip. "Your body already belongs to me."
And then he left.
Leaving her trembling.
And utterly wrecked.