Possessive Gravity : The Alpha's Claim
He stepped between Bima’s thighs, pressing his athletic body against him without leaving a single inch of space.
The multicolored fireworks—red, blue, purple—alternately bathed their skin, which was beginning to sweat despite the cold air. Arka attacked Bima’s lips with a wild, rough kiss, a physical assault built up from the tension of the mirror. There was no gentleness; there was only a primal hunger. Their tongues clashed wildly, tangling in a rhythm that matched the explosions in the sky.