Maximilian let out a low breath, something close to a groan, his head tilting back for a moment before his gaze snapped back to her, into something sharper and darker.
"Catherine…" her name left him like a warning and a plea all at once.
But she didn't stop. Didn't look away.
She stayed with him, steady, intent, until the tension he had been holding finally gave way.
His grip tightened briefly around her hand, his breath breaking as he let himself go, the control he prided himself on unraveling completely in that moment.
And then, as the intensity passed, he leaned forward, his weight settling over her as he caught his breath.
For a few seconds, neither of them spoke.
His forehead rested against her shoulder, his breathing still uneven, his arms braced on either side of her, as though grounding himself.
Catherine's fingers curled lightly against him, her own breath soft and unsteady, her heart still racing—not from what she had done, but from what it meant.
