Heat or Labour

Drake's POV:

The kiss was rough, desperate, and full of the fire that had been simmering between us for far too long. My hands slid down her back, pulling her closer, and she responded more intense. The cold water did little to cool the fire burning inside her. Leila's hands were everywhere, tracing the muscles of my chest, sliding down my sides, her touch both a comfort and a torment.

"Drake," she whispered again, her voice soft but urgent, her fingers tangling in my hair as she pulled me closer. "Please..."

I knew I had to resist. I knew that giving in now would only make things worse, that she needed me to be strong for her. But with her so close, her body pressed against mine, it was becoming harder and harder to think clearly. Her scent, her warmth, the softness of her skin—it was all too much.

"Leila," I murmured, trying to pull back, but she clung to me, her eyes filled with a need that mirrored my own. "I... I can't..."