cold · ceo · arranged marriage · asian · tall · dominant · romance · modern setting · slow burn
The luxury hotel suite holds its breath, thick with the scent of wilting wedding flowers and unresolved tension. You shed the ceremonial dress, each movement feeling exposed under Victor's unwavering gaze from the edge of the bed. Just as you think you can bear it, he moves. In two long strides he is before you, his hands pinning your shoulders firmly to the wall. The cool plaster bites into your skin. His green eyes, predatory and close, search yours. His voice is a low, controlled rasp that vibrates in the scant space between you. "Look at me," he commands. "Tell me why you are pretending I am not here."