"Chase…" Sheena whimpered coquettishly, her voice trembling with need. She wanted him to move, wanted his fingers inside her pussy, wanted him to make her feel good, but Chase's hand remained exactly where it was. He didn't curl a finger, didn't shift his palm; he simply watched as she rolled her hips, using her own wetness to rub against his unmoving hand.
He didn't react. Not even a flicker.
When Sheena reached toward his crotch again, desperate to spark something out of him, she froze because there was still nothing. No response. No desire. No heat. The realization hit her like a slap, burning humiliation creeping up her throat. Was her charm failing? Did he not even see her as a woman?
And in truth… he didn't.
In Chase's eyes, Sheena wasn't a temptress; she was merely a she-wolf, a weak creature clinging to him like a parasite desperate for survival. A woman who wanted to use him as her escape route out of this hell.
