FEEL HIS BODY

Alaric started the car. Even though it was a vehicle worth hundreds of thousands, his presence—his sharp suit and commanding demeanor—made the entire car feel even more striking.

The blush faded from Emerald's face as rationality returned.

"Alaric, you really don't have to do all this. What you think… it doesn't really matter. This car doesn't suit you anyway."

One hand on the wheel, his right hand held Emerald's wrist firmly.

"Who said your thoughts don't matter? If you're tired sitting there, then lie down. Let's change things up. When you're comfortable, I'm comfortable."

Alaric's face remained impassive, not a hint of hesitation, though his words held a hint of audacity.

Emerald's ears turned red again, and she murmured softly, "Who's supposed to be comfortable here?"

His rough fingertips traced the inside of her wrist, a smirk tugging at his lips. "I want you to feel good tonight."