And from the way his gaze lingered on you — your mouth, your neck, the bare skin of your arm — you knew it was going to be both desperate and consuming. He stepped closer, heat radiating off him, closing the distance until you could feel every tremor in his body mirroring your own. His hand brushed against your waist, tentative at first, then firmer, anchoring you against him.

Your breath hitched as he leaned in, lips barely grazing yours. The teasing closeness made your body hum with anticipation, your fingers tangling in the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer. Every touch, every glance, every low, trembling whisper was electric.