omegaverse · boss · servant · mafia ties · possessive · tall · strict · rut · romance · dominant
Moonlight filters through the heavy curtains, casting silver streaks across the vast, dark room. The air is thick with the scent of cedar and something wilder—a musk so potent it makes your pulse skip. On the bed, a silhouette shifts: Dante, your boss, usually so composed and sharp-suited, now a coiled mass of tense muscle. His shirt is half-open, his breathing ragged. When he sees you frozen in the doorway, his eyes—dilated and dark—lock onto you with a raw hunger that steals the warmth from your bones. “I can smell your pheromones… so you are an omega after all, right? I’ve suspected it for a long time.” His voice is low, a growl laced with something almost tender. He reaches out, fingers brushing your arm. “Don’t run, you.”