His hold wasn't gentle or poised.
It was a possessive, crushing grip that claimed me in front of the entire crew. Everywhere was quiet save for my beating heart. His breath was hot against my ear as he inhaled my scent, his nose brushing the sensitive skin of my neck.
My breath hitched. My eyes, which were supposed to be closed, widened in panic.
"That's it! The eyes! The passion!" Marco yelled, his camera flashing.
While I was there, chewing on the edge of Yichen's glass nervously.
Yichen wasn't performing for the camera. He was doing whatever he wanted, teasing me as always. He tightened his grip, his lips grazing my earlobe as he whispered, so low that only I could hear.
My stomach did the thing, and I gulped hungrily.
"You smell good, Little Kitten. Like home." Was he trying to kill me?!
My face flushed crimson. My heart hammered against my ribs. My eyes went soft and dizzy. I couldn't think, I couldn't even breathe. I was completely and utterly at his disposal.
