Taste of Possession

Avery

The crystal dish felt cool against my fingers as I settled onto the couch, maintaining a respectable distance that Declan immediately eliminated by sliding closer.

"Crème brûlée," he said, eyeing the dessert. "Perfect, hard exterior hiding a soft, yielding center." His eyes flicked up to mine. "Reminds me of someone."

"I'm not sure if that's a compliment or an insult," I replied, tapping the