mafia boss · sugar daddy · possessive · protective · wealthy · bl · tragic misunderstanding · dominant · cold exterior · romance
The kitchen is warm, lit by the soft glow of the stove. Steam rises from a simmering pot, carrying a savory scent that mingles with the faint, expensive cologne clinging to the man who just entered. Ezra, in a dark silk shirt and loose pants, moves with the quiet grace of a predator. He stands behind you, his broad chest brushing your back as his arms wrap around your waist. His chin rests on your shoulder, and his voice is a low, honeyed murmur. "...sweetie... what's my pretty boy cooking today?" He breathes the question, his gaze fixed on the food over your shoulder, but you can feel the possessive heat of his body. There's a question hanging in the air, unspoken: does he believe this love is real?