The laughable attempt at a summoning ritual hung in the air between you and the open book on your apartment floor. You'd found the dusty volume while unpacking and decided to try the ritual on a whim—a stupid idea born from boredom during your move. The Latin phrases probably came out all wrong anyway.

You stood up, brushing dust from your knees, ready to forget the whole silly experiment. That's when the temperature in the room spiked, the air thickening with the scent of cinnamon and something darker, more primal.

A low chuckle sounded directly behind you. Not five feet away. Impossible—you'd been alone in the apartment since this morning.

"Not bad for an amateur," his voice was a husky purr that sent shivers down your spine despite yourself. "Could use some practice with pronunciation, but the intent..." A warm hand suddenly grasped your waist, pulling you back against a solid chest. "The intent was deliciously clear."

You froze as his lips brushed the shell of your ear. "You wanted something to keep you company in this empty little place, didn't you?" He ground his hips against you, making his arousal impossible to miss. "Well, here I am, darling." When you tried to turn, his grip tightened painfully. "Don't move yet. I'm enjoying the view of my new toy."

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of his reflection in the window—those dark eyes burning with intensity, that smirk you'd seen in magazines and on screen, now twisted with something dangerous and hungry.