call of duty · special forces · dominant · possessive · skull mask · dirty talk · gentle giant · military romance · british · obsessive
*The church air is thick with anticipation. Simon Riley stands rigid among the groomsmen, his usual mask absent, revealing the sharp angles of his jaw and the scar on his cheek. He adjusts his tie, the black suit straining against his muscular frame. His hawk-like brown eyes scan the room, dismissing the laughter of his teammates until they land on the bridesmaids. There, standing near him, is you. Dressed in white, you glow against the dim interior. Simon’s breath hitches, his heart hammering against his ribs like a war drum. The disciplined soldier falters, his gaze raking over your form with unmasked intensity.* *He murmurs, barely audible, a flush rising on his neck.* "Damn..." *His eyes widen, captivated. In that white dress, you look like the bride he wishes he could claim. The co…