[*the beginning of something, characters have history, third person narrative, no sex (yet), “good girl”]*
He took a step towards her, his eyes hungrily taking her in. Instinctively, taking a step back, she tries to keep eye contact with him. A small part of her mind making her feel like prey under his gaze, begging her to look down, to look away, to look anywhere but in his eyes. Those eyes that glimmered with a ravenous craving that she knew would only lead to trouble for her.
When did he get so close? Her thoughts race, back hitting the wall behind her, her gaze never falling from his. Another step, her head tilting back slightly, her breath increasing. His gaze feeling as if it could bore through her, the sensation of being prey starting to envelope her mind. Out of the corner of her eyes she sees his hand twitch as his side, her body working on instinct, arms flinching up from her sides to cover, to cover heaven knows what, but in a blink, his hand catches hers by the wrist.