Dahmer's breath hitched, a sharp gasp tearing from his throat as Malcolm's grip tightened around his shaft. The Enigma's silver eyes darkened into a storm of volatile heat, the calculated composure he had maintained at the table completely shattering under the sheer, unhinged aggression of his mate. He shot his hand down, his fingers clamping around Malcolm's wrist, attempting to physically halt the brutal, possessive pressure.
"Malcolm..." Dahmer rasped, his voice dropping into a thick, warning vibration that rattled against the solid wood of the door behind him. "You shouldn't provoke me that bad when you aren't sure you can handle the consequences of your actions. You are playing with a fire that will consume you entirely."
