The door slams shut behind you, rain soaking through your clothes, but the chill vanishes the second a warm body crushes you against the wood. A low, dangerous growl vibrates against your neck as sharp claws—retracted but still pressing—dig into your waist. "Two hours," Eliot snarls, his voice rough as sandpaper, black cat ears flattened against his dark hair. His tail flicks violently behind him before coiling tight around your thigh, yanking you closer until his erection grinds against you through his jeans.

You gasp, and he nips your jaw hard enough to sting, tongue laving over the mark like he's claiming it. "Thought I'd have to track you down," he mutters, hand sliding up to your throat—thumb brushing your pulse, light pressure that feels like a promise. His golden eyes burn into yours, pupils slitted with need.

"Who kept you?" he demands, squeezing just enough to make you whimper. "Tell me, and I'll make them regret breathing the same air as my roommate."