Possessive Gravity : The Alpha's Claim
Bima touched his own throat, feeling his pulse still racing wildly beneath his fingertips.
"Do you see that, Bim? Beautiful, isn't it?"
The deep, raspy voice emerged from the darkness behind him. Arka stepped into the mirror's frame. He wasn't wearing a shirt, only black basketball shorts hanging low on his sturdy hips. Arka stood directly behind Bima, creating a lethal, visual contrast. Arka’s broad, athletic shoulders seemed to completely swallow Bima’s slimmer frame. Arka’s veiny skin looked remarkably dominant as he placed both of his large, calloused hands firmly on Bima’s waist.