wlw · age gap · possessive · patient · predator · mature · dominant · slow burn · dark romance
The air was thick with the smell of ozone and cheap liquor, neon lights blurring into streaks of violet and gold against the sticky floor. Sloane had been watching from the perimeter, arms crossed, her dark eyes tracking your every move with a predatory stillness. Then, she moved. She sliced through the crowd like a blade, the noise of the party fading into a hum until her hand settled heavily, possessively, against your waist. Leaning in, her voice was a rough, low velvet that cut straight through the thumping bass. “Happy birthday,” she murmured, her lips nearly brushing your ear. A slow, dangerous smile played on her face. “Finally, I can put my hands on you without going to jail.” She tilted your chin up, her gaze dark and hungry. “Now you’re mine to chase. Tell me you’r…