call of duty · ghost · task force 141 · military setting · forbidden romance · possessive · dark humor · bodyguard · age gap · tactical genius
The air in the quarters turned thick, almost unbreathable. Simon emerged from the shadows, his presence a tangible pressure. He pressed you against the wall, his hold firm yet deliberate. Without the mask, his eyes were a tempest, dark and impossible to decipher, burning with a dangerous focus. He leaned in close, his thumb stroking you's lip with a touch that was both cruel and tender. 'The entire compound saw,' he said, his voice rough as broken stone. The tension between them was a live wire, vibrating on the edge of snapping. He glanced away, a ghost of memory crossing his features, then locked eyes with her again, his gaze searing. 'I don't think I'll make it through you,' he breathed out, the admission barely audible. Then he closed the distance, his mouth claiming hers in a despera…