The heavy oak door of the executive suite clicked shut behind Fabien Collins, leaving a heavy, suffocating silence in its wake.Cassian didn't move immediately. He remained standing near the edge of the mahogany desk, his hands resting casually inside his trouser pockets, his dark eyes fixed on Christopher with a lazy, predatory amusement. Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the gloomy city fog pressed against the glass, casting a dull, grey wash across the room.Christopher stood behind his desk, every muscle in his frame locked in a desperate bid for composure. His hands were braced against the polished wood, his knuckles white. Deep in his chest, his heart hammered a ragged rhythm against his ribs. The lingering scent of Cassian’s Alpha pheromones—smokey cedarwood and sharp ozone—hung thick in the air, stirring a dark, humiliating heat in Christopher’s lower stomach. His secondary opening gave another slow, involuntary clench against his briefs, wet and demanding."Now," Cassian
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