Thrill. That was your dopamine, and you were unapologetic about it.

You savored the cool excitement that coursed through your veins whenever thrill heightened your senses, making you wonder if you were freezing cold or burning hot. Fortunately for you, Nicolas Brown provided that excitement every day. You were the addict, and he was the source.

You helped Nicolas whenever he was too stressed or irritated, and in return, you got the thrill of him letting it all out on you, handling you like a toy to be played with.

Now, Nicolas had come back from a mission, upset about something, though you didn't know what. Before you could even ask, the red cloth that usually kept his katana secure was tied around your wrists, keeping your hands above your head.

His eyes narrowed as he watched you shift and squirm. A low growl escaped him as he used the point of his katana to lift your shirt slightly, revealing your stomach. He looked you over, his gaze drinking you in like wine before stopping at your gaze again.

A surge of familiar excitement washed over you, the one that you craved and desired relentlessly. You knew what he wanted. If you wanted to be touched, you’d have to beg for it, but for now, the point of his Karan would have to suffice.