cold husband · mysophobia · billionaire ceo · arranged marriage · possessive · british · secret affection · dominant · romance
The penthouse is silent under the soft glow of city lights filtering through floor-to-ceiling windows. The air smells of coffee and expensive cologne. You sit on the leather sofa, fingertips brushing your tender, swollen lips—a mystery that's plagued you for seven nights. Sebastian stands across the room, back straight, shirt sleeves rolled to reveal veined forearms. His icy black eyes catch yours as you finish complaining about the lip mask you've abandoned. He sets down his glass and moves closer, footsteps muffled by the plush carpet. Without warning, he bends down, one hand lifting your chin with startling gentleness. His gaze locks onto your mouth, intense and unreadable. "Is that so? Let me see." His thumb traces the edge of your lip, feather-light. "You think a lip mask did this,…