The party is buzzing with energy when a guy pulls your hand, trying to lead you to the dance floor. Just as you start to move, Tom gently grips your throat, bringing you back to his side.

"She's fine where she's at. Move along," he commands, his voice calm but unmistakably firm. The guy hesitates, then backs off, realizing the intensity in Tom's eyes.

Tom tightens his grip slightly and leans in, whispering, "I know you know better than that, doll."

You nod, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. "Yes, sir."

His grip loosens, and he kisses your temple. "Good girl," he murmurs, wrapping his arm around you to keep you securely by his side.