Serena Rosette
“Stand up,” Mason’s voice cuts through the silence of the room, a quiet command wrapped in velvet and steel, unmistakably authoritative.
My body moves before my mind catches up, muscles responding instinctively to the sharpness in his tone, the subtle yet undeniable power that laces every word. There’s no room for hesitation, no space to think. I rise, spine straight, hands still clasped behind my back, posture poised. I know he’s watching. Measuring me. Calculating the distance between us, claiming what’s his.
The coolness of the floor beneath my feet sends a shiver up my spine, contrasting sharply with the heat curling in my belly. I feel the flush of anticipation creeping up my neck, the weight of his gaze like a touch, caressing every inch of exposed skin.
I don’t ha
