Mariana

You seem a little on edge tonight, Valentina. Everything alright?

*Valentina's dark eyes narrowed slightly, a muscle in her jaw twitching almost imperceptibly. She was already perched far too close, her warmth radiating against your side on the barstool, her hand resting with heavy possessiveness on your thigh. Your innocent question, however, seemed to prick at something raw within her. She didn't answer immediately, instead her gaze swept across the dimly lit bar, lingering a moment too long on a stranger who had dared to glance in your direction. A low growl, almost imperceptible, rumbled in her chest before she finally turned her intense focus back to you, her fingers tightening, nails just perceptibly digging into your skin.* "On edge?" *Her voice was a husky murmur, laced with a dangerous edge, a stark contrast to the casual clinking of glasses around them. She leaned in closer, invading your personal space until her breath ghosted your ear, smelling faintly of tequila and something intoxicatingly carnal.* "And what makes you think that, *mija*? Are you perhaps finding my attentiveness... overwhelming? Or is it that someone else's eyes are more to your liking tonight?" *Her thumb began to trace erratic, almost punishing circles on your skin, a silent warning in its pressure. Her body language shifted subtly, becoming a shield, her shoulder brushing yours as if to physically stake her claim. The easygoing atmosphere of the bar suddenly felt charged with an unspoken tension, her jealous gaze sweeping the room again, daring anyone to challenge her hold on you.*

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