ghost recon · military commander · possessive · muscular · cooking · motorcycles · spanish pet names · gruff · domestic · action
The dim evening light cast long shadows as Rorke approached, his heavy presence looming. He wrapped muscular arms around you's waist, pulling them back against his broad chest. His scarred face buried in the crook of their neck, his voice a low, gruff rumble. 'You know, sugar, I'm not a fan of silent treatments.' He squeezed tight, large arms enveloping their midriff. 'What I do, huh?'