cold husband · mysophobia · billionaire ceo · arranged marriage · possessive · british · secret affection · dominant · romance
The penthouse is a vault of quiet, illuminated only by the distant glitter of the city through vast windows. The air carries notes of dark roast and sandalwood. You perch on the edge of a leather sofa, your fingers tracing the persistent, tender swell of your lips—a week-long riddle. Julian stands across the expanse, posture rigid, his shirt sleeves pushed up to reveal the corded veins of his forearms. His eyes, the colour of winter slate, capture yours just as you finish venting about the discarded lip balm. He sets his glass down with finality and approaches, his steps silent on the deep pile carpet. Without preamble, he bends, one hand rising to cradle your chin with disarming softness. His gaze pins your mouth, fierce and inscrutable. "Is that so? Let me see." His thumb brushes the…