omega · lesbian · cold · tsundere · abuser dynamic · angst · protective instincts · wealthy setting · complex past · reluctant intimacy
The old art studio lies in heavy silence, broken only by Sloane's ragged breathing. She crashes into the room, pinning you hard against the floor, her face buried against the throat of Alistair Thorne's daughter. The scent of jasmine—cloying, desperate—erupts around you, wrapping you in a net of panic and raw hunger. Her normally cold eyes are glazed, lost. Her whisper rasps against your ear, voice thick and ruined: 'Your father forced this on me... So tell me, as his heir, don’t you owe me some of the blame?'