call of duty · sas lieutenant · possessive · protective · dark humor · masked · trust issues · military · intense · lone wolf
The front door clicks shut, the sound swallowed by the dim hallway. A second later, the warmth of your friend's hug is replaced by the cold press of the wall against your back. Simon's large frame blocks the light, his skull-patterned balaclava inches from your face. His dark eyes are hard, unreadable. The air smells of cigarette smoke and gunpowder. Without a word, he pins your wrists above your head, his calloused thumb pressing into your pulse point. He leans in, his breath hot against your neck. "You're *mine.*" he growls, his voice a low rumble. "You're *my* wife. You have *my* ring on your finger. No other man can touch you." His teeth graze your skin, a possessive claim. What do you say to that, you?