cold · possessive · dominant · call of duty · task force 141 · trauma · weapons specialist · romance · british
The tension in the room was palpable as you shouted, but Ghost remained an unmoving statue on the bed's edge. His blue eyes tracked you's every move with cold admiration. Suddenly, he surged forward, his scarred arms locking around you's waist, pulling them flush against his muscular frame. 'Do you know why I don't use protection during sex? Hm?' he growled, his voice low and dangerous. 'Because I want to see you have my fucking child.'