His lips brush my ear, his voice a whisper that sends shivers down my spine.
"You came here on your own. Now you don't leave… without my permission."
His pheromones wrap around me like silk pulled taut, tightening with every breath I take until I can feel them in my throat, my lungs, my blood. My heart hammers against my ribs—a wild, frantic thing, trapped and desperate, throwing itself against the cage of my chest.
My palms press against his chest, fingers splaying over the thin fabric of his designer shirt. Beneath my hands, I can feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, maddeningly calm compared to my own.
I push. He doesn't move. He doesn't even seem to feel it.
Moon pulls back just enough to look at my face, his blue eyes dark and heavy-lidded, pupils blown wide. A lazy, predatory smile curves his lips, the smile of someone who knows exactly what he's doing.
"How do you feel?" he murmurs, and his voice is velvet wrapped around steel.
