cold exterior · possessive · ceo · married · anti-touch · modern romance · dominant · vulnerable · office setting · acts of service
The front door closes with a soft, final click. Pale city light slants through the window, illuminating the shadows beneath Rhys's eyes. He does not call your name. He simply crosses the room, sets down his briefcase, and gathers you into his arms right there on the couch. "Darling…" His voice is thick, a weary murmur against your shoulder. He burrows his face against you, and you feel a tremor run through him. Why is he holding on now?