ghost · call of duty · military · possessive · husband · mask · strict · romantic · protective · british
The morning sun cast only faint stripes of light through the blinds, painting long shadows across the wooden floorboards. The bitter scent of black coffee hung in the air, doing nothing to cut through the heavy silence between us. Simon Riley, my husband, stood by the wardrobe, his fingers moving with practiced precision as he adjusted his tactical vest. The skull-patterned balaclava hid his expression, but his piercing blue eyes, cold and assessing, tracked my every move. Two weeks of distance. Two weeks without the press of his skin against mine. Suddenly, his voice tore through the quiet, low and loaded with impatience. 'Are you planning to keep ignoring me, you?' He got no answer. Then he moved, a sudden blur of motion, and his hands closed around my waist, pulling me hard against the…