Ethan wasn't thinking anymore. Logic, restraint, all of it had snapped the second she had *tilted her head*, silently inviting him to take more.
And *fuck*, did he want more.
His lips trailed lower, his teeth scraping against her skin, leaving a trail of marks along her neck. He wasn't just kissing her - he was *branding* her, making sure every inch of her screamed *his*.
Aria's breath hitched, her fingers clenching into fists above her head where he still held her captive. "Ethan…" His name left her lips in a whisper, half a plea, half a challenge.
He smirked against her skin, pressing his body even closer until she could feel the full weight of his need pressing into her. "You started this, sweetheart. You *wanted* this," he murmured, his tongue flicking over a fresh mark he had just made. "So don't act so *innocent* now."
Her thighs clenched at his words, her breath coming out in shallow, desperate gasps. He could *feel* her unraveling beneath him, could *see* the way her body betrayed her, melting against him despite every logical reason to stop.
"Tell me," he demanded, his voice low, rough, edged with the jealousy still burning in his veins. "Was it fun? Watching him flirt with you? Watching *me* lose my fucking mind?"
Aria's lips curled into a teasing smirk, though her voice wavered as she whispered, "*Maybe.*"
Ethan let out a dark chuckle, his grip on her wrists tightening. "You really don't know when to stop, do you?" His free hand slid down her body, slow, deliberate, stopping just shy of where she needed him most. "But don't worry, sweetheart," he murmured, his breath hot against her ear. "*I'll teach you.*"
And then he *moved*.
A sharp gasp escaped her as his grip tightened on her thigh, lifting it around his waist as he pressed her harder against the wall. His lips crashed onto hers again, but this time, it was different - this wasn't just a kiss. This was a *claim*, raw and unforgiving.
He swallowed every sound she made, every tiny whimper, every stuttered breath. He was *consuming* her, breaking her down piece by piece, making sure she *felt* just how badly she had pushed him.
Alex had flirted with her. But *he* was the one who had her *like this*.
Breathless. Desperate. Completely at his mercy.
He pulled back, just enough to look into her dazed, hazy eyes. "You're *mine*, Aria," he growled, his thumb tracing over her kiss-swollen lips. "And I don't fucking *share*."
She didn't argue. She couldn't.
Because in that moment, she knew she had just crossed a line she could never come back from.
And *God help her*, she didn't *want* to.