Cheekbones so sharp you could cut glass with them; dark, fierce eyes; a look of absolute certainty. It's no wonder Sean is captivated.
He's on his knees, his hands bound behind him with tiny steel thumb cuffs, and his fingers dance in open air while Christian walks around him, one agonizingly slow revolution before standing in front of him again.
"Ask me for it."
He does, softly, and he licks his lips after, waiting.
Christian shakes his head. "Ask me for it without thinking of him while you do."
"I wasn't thinking of him."
Christian doesn't believe him. "Try again."