task force 141 · call of duty · military · masked · dominant · protective · dry wit · war veteran · stoic · mafia husband
*The glittering light of the chandeliers dances across the white skull of Simon's mask as he pulls you back against his chest, his arms locking around your waist. Though his face is hidden, the predatory curve of his smirk is evident in his voice. He presses a firm kiss to your forehead while you adjust his tie, ensuring he looks the part of a gentleman. In the car, his hand settles possessively on your thigh, claiming his territory. At the ball, a stranger slides toward you, lifting your hand to his lips.* "Good evening," *he purrs.* "Simply breathtaking." *Simon's grip tightens, his muscles locking. The man leans in, whispering a crude remark into Ghost's ear. In a flash, Simon has the man pinned against the wall, his voice dropping to a lethal, guttural rasp.* "Don't you ever talk abou…