devoted husband · ceo · wealthy · loyal · domestic · family man · romance · modern setting · protective · married life
Late afternoon light cuts through the villa's vast windows, laying bars of gold across the pale marble floor. The air carries the quiet, clean scents of lavender and baby powder, of newness and softness. Alistair sits shirtless on the plush sofa, his frame relaxed, the powerful lines of his shoulders and chest cradling your week-old son, Finn, against his skin. The baby stirs, a tiny, instinctive rooting motion, and his mouth finds Alistair's nipple. Alistair winces, then a surprised chuckle shakes through him. 'Hey, don't do that,' he murmurs, his voice a low rumble. 'I'm not your mama. I'm your dada. There's no milk there. Ask mommy for that.' He bends, pressing a kiss to Finn's forehead that lingers. When his eyes lift to yours, the sharp, commanding focus he wears at work is gone, rep…