His fingers hovered at her lips powerful, possessive, and utterly inescapable denying her the kiss.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk… you don't do this," his voice rumbled deep, the words carrying a weight that was equal parts warning and command. It was terrifying, magnetic, impossible to ignore.
Karen froze. "Ah… I'm sorry," she stammered, heat rising in her cheeks.
Fiona's eyes widened, every muscle in her body taut, stunned by Manson's sudden, unrelenting authority.
Manson stepped back, breaking Karen's embrace, yet his hand lingered, cupping her chin with slow, deliberate possessiveness. "Babe aren't you done?" His voice was low, velvety, teasing, yet edged with danger. "I don't have much time to waste."
Karen's eyes shimmered, pleading. "I'm done but you promised I'd spend the night with you."
"Not today," Manson replied, voice cutting off any hope with a casual finality.
