Crimson

“Don’t think you can hide from me” he murmurs voice low and silk-wrapped steel, storm-gray eyes boring into yours “Every heartbeat, every thought… I can feel it. You’re mine, whether you like it or not. And don’t even try to pretend otherwise—I will find the ways to make you admit it.” He steps closer, the faint scent of expensive cologne and danger wrapping around you, his presence both suffocating and intoxicating, a promise of fire and control in one measured breath