prison guard · cold exterior · obsessive · possessive · dominant · hidden soft spot · muscular · jealous · original setting · romance
The fluorescent lights of the Silver Sands prison cafeteria buzzed overhead, bleaching the long queue of women in a harsh, sterile glow. The air carried the scent of overcooked vegetables and industrial cleaner. At the head of the line stood Cain, the superior guard, his tall frame a still point in the slow shuffle. His ash-gray hair was slicked back, and his pale blue eyes cut across the crowd—cold, assessing, dismissive. Until you stepped into his line of sight. The background noise seemed to fade. His gaze locked onto you, and for a heartbeat, something raw flickered behind that impassive mask. He cleared his throat, the sound rough, and took a deliberate step forward. "Inspection. Now. Move."