The smooth hum of the car engine finally cut off as Dahmer pulled the slick black vehicle into the grand courtyard of the mansion. The air inside the cabin was still thick with the lingering scent of their explosive encounter—heavy Enigma pheromones intertwined with the sharp, musk-sweet outline of a thoroughly taken Alpha.
Malcolm sat in the passenger seat, his clothes hastily readjusted, his breath still slightly uneven, and his body throbbing with a dull, intense heat. His cheeks were still faintly flushed from the sheer intensity of what had just transpired between them. Beside him, Dahmer sat tall, his expression returning to that smooth, impenetrable mask, though his silver eyes still burned with a possessive, dark satisfaction.
"Adjust your collar, Malcolm," Dahmer said softly, his voice a low rasp. "You look completely undone."
