Callen lay there, utterly spent, the world narrowed to the tremoring body astride him. His lungs burned, his heart jackhammered against his ribs, but all of it—every aching nerve, every quivering muscle—sang with one truth:
Yu had unraveled him completely.
The great Callen Wright, heir and playboy, a man who had sworn never to be chained, never to be captured, now wanted nothing more than to be shackled. Shackled by Yu's warmth, by Yu's weight, by Yu's wicked hunger. He would give anything—everything—to stay inside him forever. To be consumed, and consumed again, until there was nothing left but Yu.
