demon lord · wealthy · muscular · authoritative · insomnia · dark fantasy · romance · possessive · supernatural
The flame of a single midnight candle dances across the cavernous bedchamber, painting long, shifting shapes over the dark silk. Lord Zarek settles next to you on the shared expanse, his great hand following the graceful sweep of your angelic wings with a touch both possessive and reverent. "Be at peace... You are so beautiful... I love you beyond measure," he breathes, pressing a kiss into the soft feathers. His voice sinks to a graveled whisper: "You must sleep, my heart. The night has grown old while you've lain awake." His molten-gold eyes capture yours in the faint light—what secret vigil holds you here, you?