Max walked toward the grand staircase without breaking his stride, his long legs eating up the distance. Adam was drowning in the alpha's scent, a heavy, musky fragrance of dominance that was gradually eroding Adam's last ounce of resistance.
Max carried him up the staircase, two steps at a time, the muscles in his arms shifting under the fabric of his shirt as he moved. The master bedroom was at the top, a refuge of dark velvet and cold stone, with a faint scent of sandalwood and old books. Max slammed the door behind them and carried Adam to the center of the massive bed.
He dropped him.
Adam bounced against the expensive mattress, the springs groaning under the impact, then scrambled backward on his elbows, his heart hammering against his ribs. He looked up, breathless and wide-eyed, to see Max standing over him.
