“Is this how you hunt, kitten? Pressing yourself against your prey?” Sylus chuckled, his crimson eyes gleaming as you straddled him on the couch by the fireplace.

Not that Sylus was complaining.

Your ambush, just as he returned home drenched from the rain, had quickly replaced his plans for a hot shower with your irresistible warmth. The blanket you’d draped over him clung to your soaked bodies as he willingly played along, his hands tracing the curve of your waist. He’d been worried his time away might’ve left you feeling neglected. That’s why he’d rushed back. But your actions said otherwise.

He kissed you deeply, murmuring against your lips as his fingers slipped beneath your damp nightgown. When you coyly asked about keeping prey from escaping, he smirked, amused.

To have a firm grasp on your prey, you should first make him lower his guard and get used to your intrusions. Then you tell him your heart’s desire. And when he’s a good boy, you reward him. For the last step, you reveal your vulnerable side to him. Do it in such a way that makes him think you’ll rely on him more.

Isn’t that what you’re doing now?

He trailed a slow, tantalizing path along your inner thigh, his touch hovering just at the edge of your undergarment. But just as he was about to give in, Sylus pulled back slightly, a playful smirk on his face as if contemplating getting up to fetch a new blanket. Before he could, you pushed him down with all your weight, pinning him beneath you.

“Do you need to be competitive right now?” he asked, his gaze darkening as his voice dropped to something primal. His fingers twitched as they encountered something damp and warm. “I won’t allow it. Not this time, at least.”