Moon's lips brush the shell of my ear, a terrifying intimacy. His breath is a warm, deliberate brand against my skin.
"Hmm, Zyren?"
His voice is a low purr, a predator playing with its catch.
I stay silent, my body a live wire of tension. I struggle against the cage of his arms, but it's useless.
My strength, even at its peak, is a feeble breeze against the granite wall of his S-Class Alpha physique.
I am utterly, humiliatingly weak in his grip.
He murmurs again, the vibration skating down my spine.
"Give me an answer."
My hands scrabble against his forearm, a futile protest. "It's none of your business!"
The anger in my voice is sharp, but it's laced with a thread of something else—panic.
He smiles; I can feel the curve of his lips against my ear. His breath, his mouth, are too close.
God, where am I trapped?
Then, he does it. A slow, deliberate swipe of his tongue against the sensitive curve of my ear.
