"I should know better. Should walk away before this goes too far." Another pause. Longer this time. His gaze lifts slowly back to mine, steel-blue and utterly unrelenting, pinning me in place with the kind of focus that makes my knees weak. "But I can't fucking stop."
This is about marking her. Claiming what's mine before she even understands what she's given me.
Mine. The word beats through me with every swallow. Mine to taste. Mine to touch. Mine to keep.
Don't care that every law—moral, legal, familial—says this is wrong. She's mine now. And I'm never letting her go.
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