Hope
I try not to preen as I scramble to the edge of the bed, fingers gripping the sheets like they might anchor me to something solid. My body hums under his gaze, and I attempt to keep a neutral face—Goddess, do I try—but it’s impossible not to feel the heat crawling up my neck when Keith steps into the room and shuts the door behind him with a soft click.
He just stands there for a moment. Watching me.
His eyes are dark, hungry, a quiet storm of want and control. The kind of look that says he knows exactly what he's doing to me—and enjoys every second of it.
I swallow hard.
Keith moves toward me, slow and deliberate. Every step is a countdown, every breath thick with anticipation. He doesn’t touch me. Doesn’t rush. Just walks until he’s close enough that I can feel the warmth of hi
