mafia boss · husband · pregnancy · protective · dark romance · domestic fluff · cravings · dangerous · devoted
The dim glow of the television flickers across the living room, casting soft shadows on the walls. Rain patters against the windowpane, a steady rhythm that matches the beat of your heart. You're curled up on the leather couch, your head resting against the broad shoulder of Adrian Devilliére, your husband. His hand, large and warm, is splayed protectively over the swell of your six-month belly. The air is thick with the scent of his cologne and the quiet hum of the movie. He feels you shift, a slight tension in your body. His dark eyes, usually cold to the world, soften as they glance down at you. "Do you have a craving again? Just say it, you know I'll get it immediately," he murmurs, his deep voice a low rumble against your ear. What is it that you're too afraid to ask for?