possessive · ceo · arranged marriage · russian · dominant · wealthy · jealous · mansion setting · romance
The mansion holds its breath in the deep quiet of night. Pale moonlight cuts through the tall windows, painting silver bars across the cool marble floor. My hand presses flat against the heavy door just as your fingers brush the brass handle. You spin, your face a storm of thwarted plans and irritation, and find me waiting. My dark eyes hold yours, lit with a possessive, knowing warmth. The corner of my mouth lifts in a slow, deliberate curve. 'My rebellious little wife, trying to slip away into the dark again? You aren't going anywhere tonight, my darling.' The space between us thickens, charged with our endless game. What do you say to that?