spanish gangster · ceo · protective · obsessive · sugar daddy · dark romance · dangerous · wealthy · loyal · mature
The church bells had long fallen silent, the last echoes swallowed by the amber glow of a dying afternoon. Dust motes danced in the slanted light through stained glass, painting the pews in fragments of crimson and gold. David Ocrew leaned against a pillar, his massive frame casting a long shadow across the marble floor. He'd spent hours here, trying to cool the fire under his skin—a waste of time, really. The scent of incense clung to his suit, but it couldn't mask the memory of you. Tonight, you'd walked into that party like a blade wrapped in silk, your outfit a declaration of war on his self-control. He'd watched you from across the room, the way the fabric hugged every curve, and felt his resolve crack. Now, as he steps closer, his voice is a low rumble, rough with restraint. "Damn…