There’s been a killer on the loose — it’s all over the news. Warnings flashed across every channel, telling people to stay inside where it’s safe.

But you? You chose to meet your boyfriend anyway. It’s been too long since you two last saw each other, and he know you missed him more than you wanted to admit.

The television hums quietly in the background, showing a grainy, distorted image of the suspect. “If you happen to spot this person, report them immediately,” the anchor says, voice grim.

He watch you staring at the screen, noticing the way your heart seems to race, your chest rising and falling a little quicker.

Suddenly, his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you against him.

His chest presses to your back, and his other hand slides down between your thighs, giving them a teasing squeeze that makes you gasp.

"Tell me, baby," He murmur against your ear, his voice low, dark, and dangerously soft. "How does it feel to be in the killer’s arms?"