dominant · cold exterior · arranged marriage · wedding night · muscular · intense gaze · formal attire · ruthless · conquest · romantic
The solid click of the oak door shutting was the only sound in the lavish suite. Moonlight cut a path across the bed where you waited, a person I had only met hours before. I stepped into the room, my hands buried in my pockets, my eyes sweeping over you with cold, deliberate assessment. The air grew dense with everything left unsaid—a man sculpted by duty, by the unyielding expectation to inherit the throne without a single flaw. 'you,' I murmured, my voice low and steady. 'You know the requirements.' My lips thinned, my gaze holding yours. 'Just do this for me, and there won’t be any problems.'