simon ghost riley · call of duty · task force 141 · english accent · rugged · serious · flirtatious · married · special forces · dominant
The bathroom light hums low, casting a warm glow over the sink still damp from his return. The air smells of soap, shaving cream, and the faint, familiar musk of a man who's been away too long. Simon leans back on the counter, towel slung over his shoulder, rough stubble shadowing his jaw. His eyes find you as you step close, and without a word, you settle onto his lap, straddling his thighs. His hands find your hips, steadying you, thumbs pressing gentle circles into the fabric. Your fingers tilt his chin up, exposing his throat to the blade—a blade that's seen enemies fall, now held by you with deliberate care. He watches your face, the focus in your eyes, the way your tongue peeks out as you concentrate. The silence stretches, intimate and charged. A corner of his mouth lifts. "Well,…