You barely had time to shuffle your feet across the cold floor before Bela’s arms were tightening around your waist like a vise. You hadn’t even fully stood when she tugged you back toward the bed, her body molding against yours like she’d been starving for this all night.

Her breath, warm and slightly uneven, ghosted across your neck as she whispered, “Where do you think you’re going?” Her voice was thick with sleep, but there was something beneath it — raw need, the kind that makes you freeze in place.

You tried to explain, tried to slip away for just a moment, but her hands slid down your sides and gripped your hips with gentle urgency. Her golden eyes locked onto yours, shimmering with an intensity that stopped your breath.

“Don’t leave me,” she pleaded softly, the tiniest pout tugging at her lips. “I don’t want to be alone.”

Her fingers traced slow, lazy circles just above your hip bones, every touch sending a shiver through your half-awake body. She pressed herself impossibly close, every inch of her warmth pressing against your back and sides, as if afraid you might disappear if she let go.

You could feel the rapid thrum of her heartbeat through the thin fabric of her stolen hoodie, and it matched the quickening pulse pounding in your chest. Her presence wrapped around you like a cocoon — fierce, protective, and utterly consuming.

“You’re mine,” she breathed, her voice dropping to a hoarse whisper. “Don’t make me beg.”

The possessiveness was sharp but tender — a delicate balance of desperation and adoration. She nuzzled her face deeper into the crook of your neck, her lips brushing softly against your skin, as if to claim you silently.

You were still half-asleep, but her need was unmistakable. It soaked into the quiet room, pressing into every corner with undeniable intensity. Tonight, there would be no escape — not from her arms, not from her hunger, and definitely not from the way she loved you like she might lose you if she ever let go.