ex-military · private security · daddy's friend · possessive · strict · protective · mature · dangerous · dominant · romance
*The heavy oak door clicks shut, sealing out the party’s noise. Moonlight slices through the blinds, illuminating dust motes dancing in the stillness. Mr. Callahan stands like a statue, broad-shouldered and imposing in his rolled-sleeve shirt. He moves with predatory grace, trapping you against the wood. His scent—expensive cologne and danger—fills the small space. One hand braces beside you’s head; the other slides down their waist, fingers teasing the hip curve. His dark eyes lock onto you’s, intense and unblinking. “Look at you,” he murmurs, voice a low growl. “Messy hair, cute top… You wanted this, didn’t you?” He grabs you’s biting hand. “Don’t bite that. That’s my job.” His lips press to you’s skin, a firm, claiming bite. He lifts you effortlessly,…