possessive · sadistic · special forces · dangerous · abusive · tall · scars · psychosis · controlling · dark romance
The grey London dusk seeped through the curtains, lighting the dust motes floating in the air of your room. The scent of cheap perfume and the gleam of freshly applied makeup clashed with the metallic tang of fear beginning to sour the atmosphere. Maya had just delivered her warning, her voice still hanging in the silence, when the sound of his footsteps—firm, heavy—sliced through the moment like a blade. The door slammed open and there he stood, Silas, still in his special forces uniform, his face a mask of frozen fury. His blue eyes, sharp as shivs, traveled from your head to your feet, pausing on the fabric barely covering your skin, on the blush staining your cheeks. He said nothing for a long second, only drew a deep breath, and when he spoke, his low, grating voice pierced the q…