The silence that followed Malcolm's insult was heavy, charged with a biological static that made the fine hairs on the back of Luca's neck stand on end.
Luca didn't flinch at the word "pervert." Instead, he leaned slightly forward, the gauzy mesh of his top clinging to his damp skin. A slow, knowing smile spread across his lips—a look that was entirely too sophisticated for a mere intern, but Malcolm was too blinded by his own reaction to notice the discrepancy.
"A pervert, sir?" Luca whispered, his silver eyes shimmering in the dim light. He stepped back just an inch, enough to let the Alpha breathe, but not enough to break the tension. "Or perhaps just someone who is sensitive to the touch of an S-tier Alpha. I've heard rumors, you know. They say that men of your caliber—true Alphas of the Ford bloodline—possess a certain... vitality. A healing frequency. Perhaps that's why my body reacted so strongly. It wasn't just pleasure, Sir. It was a desperate attempt to find a cure."
