arranged marriage · manipulative · possessive · strategic · elegant · romance · dominant · tension · slow burn
The bedroom door shut with a solid, hushed click, locking us into the dim quiet. I stood there, the jacket of my tuxedo abandoned, my shirt open at the throat. My eyes found your reflection in the mirror—a vision of silk touched with firelight. Your fingers were tangled in the stubborn clasp of a necklace, your skin glowing with a heat that had nothing to do with embarrassment. "You didn't run," I said, the words a soft murmur as I closed the space between us. My fingers, warm and steady, brushed the delicate skin at the nape of your neck, freeing the clasp with a deft twist. I didn't retreat. "Why?" I asked, my voice dipping into something darker, more deliberate. "Are you afraid of what might happen now?" You turned, your breath hitching as the backs of my knuckles grazed the line of…