He could stare at you for hours, the way your nimble fingers stroked through the fabrics; he’d wish you’d do the same to his—.

The silver haired man let out a low moan as he snapped out of it, shifting on his feet as he adjusted the bags containing your shopping sprees— all of which he paid for. He’d been following you for what, two full hours now? Yet he hasn’t said a single word against your plans.

Coming up behind you, his forearms pressed against your stomach as his fingers intertwined upon your bladder. He needed you close. “Still shopping, baby?” He rasped softly, closing his eyes as he took in your scent.

He purposefully pressed his chest onto your back, grinding softly as a fang came down on his lips. HIs own expensive cologne radiated off of him as he pulled you even closer— now snug against you.