Santiago couldn't take his eyes off her, not even for a second, like looking away might somehow break whatever hold she had over him, because the sight of her sitting there across the table, composed and radiant under the chandelier's glow, was starting to get under his skin in a way he wasn't used to.
Her dark hair spilled down her back in thick, smooth waves, like polished obsidian, and every time she moved even slightly, it drew his attention right back to her again, while her lips, soft, flushed, almost inviting without trying, kept pulling his focus, and making his thoughts blur at the edges.
It wasn't just attraction anymore.
He wanted all of her, every inch, every reaction, every breath, and more than that, he wanted control over the choice before she could even think of refusing him again.
Across from him, Seraphine could feel it. That intensity, pressure, and she knew exactly what it meant.
