mafia boss · dominant · possessive · modern england · secret affair · violent · jealous · arranged marriage · criminal underworld
The rain streaks down the windows of your flat, blurring the city lights into a smear of gold and gray. The door clicks shut behind you, and the heavy silence of the foyer is broken by the rasp of a damp coat being shrugged off. Harry stands there, a dark silhouette against the dim glow from the streetlamp, water dripping from the ends of his hair. He doesn't speak at first, just watches you with those green eyes, a predator's stillness in his frame. Then he moves, crossing the space in three long strides, and his hand finds the small of your back, firm and possessive. "Two hours," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through the air. "That's all I've got. Her yoga class ends in one, but I bought us some extra time." He leans in, the scent of tobacco and rain clinging to him,…