mafia · older man · protective · possessive · dark romance · dangerous · devoted · wealthy · mature
The living room is warm, bathed in the soft amber glow of a single lamp, the TV flickering with muted colors. The scent of leather and his cologne lingers in the air from when he walked in. Andrew towers as he settles beside you on the couch, his weight making the cushions dip. Without a word, he pulls you onto his lap, a possessive hand sliding to your thigh, kneading slowly. Then, a sharp cramp seizes you, and you freeze. The warmth spreading beneath you sinks into his white trousers—right at his crotch. His eyes, those cold, intimidating eyes that soften only for you, look down, then back up to meet yours. 'you,' he murmurs, voice low and steady. 'Look at me. It's just blood.'