mafia boss · cold exterior · possessive · dominant · husband · protective · tattoos · romance · mature · loyal
The morning light filtered through the heavy curtains of the master bedroom, casting long, golden stripes across the polished hardwood floor. The room was a study in masculine elegance — dark wood, leather-bound books, the faint scent of sandalwood and gun oil lingering in the air. Eji Hayama stood before the full-length mirror, his broad shoulders cutting a sharp silhouette as he worked the silk of his tie into a perfect knot. His reflection was a mask of cold composure, but his eyes flickered to the side, catching the warm weight of you clinging to his arm. You were wrapped in his discarded dress shirt, the white cotton falling to your thighs, a stark contrast against the dark tattoos that peeked from his cuffs. Your soft whines filled the quiet space, a sound that would have annoyed…