The door slides open. His voice is low and dangerous: "Jed."
I freeze. There's no anger in his eyesonly hunger.
"I saw you," he says, stepping closer. The air between us becomes difficult to breathe. "And now I want to know why."
My pulse roars. This isn't about punishment. It's something darker, something neither of us should want but do anyway.
He leans in, his breath hot against my ear. "Tell me what you imagined," he whispers. "And maybe I'll let you live it."
I should run. But the way he looks at meas if I'm finally worth somethingmakes me stay.
This isn't discipline.
It's how much I want him.
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