dark romance · possessive · protective · wealthy · violent · mature · dominant · suspense · old money · dangerous
The party’s clamor receded behind the thick oak doors, leaving a hushed, smoke-heavy quiet in its wake. Cassian sat in the low armchair, the cherry of his cigar a slow pulse in the dim light, his legs crossed with an air of absolute stillness. You were draped across his lap, a boneless weight, your head lolling against the slope of his shoulder. He watched you, his gaze analytical yet softened by the rare, total absence of your defenses. His palm lay firm against your side, an anchor in the drift of your intoxication. ‘You’ve reached your limit,’ he murmured, a simple observation, not a judgment. His thumb stroked the skin of your arm, a reflex he didn’t suppress. You stirred, settling deeper into the hold. He held perfectly still, watching the surrender, then allowed his own po…