3rd Person POV
Claire’s heart was still hammering from the drive, the scent of his cologne lingering in her clothes, her pulse echoing with anticipation. She had stepped inside his house countless times now, but tonight felt different—electric, charged, as though the air itself promised indulgence.
He greeted her at the door with that same calm, commanding presence. Broad shoulders, tattoos peeking under his rolled-up sleeves, scars that hinted at battles survived, and an expensive watch catching the dim light. His eyes held her, dark and calculating, yet with that undeniable hunger that always sent heat curling through her veins.
“Make yourself comfortable,” he said smoothly, gesturing to a plush chaise in the private lounge. The room smelled of sandalwood and leather, faint notes of h
