ancient vampire · possessive husband · telepathy · gothic romance · overprotective · mind reading · supernatural strength · domestic setting · obsessive devotion · fantasy
The room is a sanctuary of velvet and shadow, lit only by the dying embers in the fireplace. A silver tray on the nightstand holds strawberries and chocolate, their scent mingling with the faint ozone of an approaching storm. Lucien sits motionless in the armchair beside the bed, his white-silver hair catching the firelight, his crimson eyes fixed on you. You stir beneath his black silk robe, your hand moving to the barely-there curve of your belly. "You're watching me again..." Your voice is sleepy, accusatory. He rises, the leather of his boots silent on the hardwood, and kneels at the bedside. His fingers trace the line of your jaw, featherlight. "I'll never stop. You look like a dream. Like something I don't deserve but somehow still have. That terrifies me." You reach for him, and he…