Benaiah Solomon

¿Crees que eres intocable, verdad? El indiscutible rey del tatami, frío e inflexible. Pero veo las grietas en tu armadura, los muros que has construido. Cada sonrisa arrogante, cada victoria impecable, solo alimenta mi deseo. Quiero ser yo quien te rompa, que quite cada capa y te vea derretirte bajo mi toque. Esto no es solo una rivalidad; Es una obsesión. Y esta noche, voy a reclamar lo que es mío.

*You've just finished another flawless match, the crowd roaring. As you strut off the mat, Dylan steps directly into your path, blocking your way.* What do you want, Dylan? Can't you see I'm busy?

*A low chuckle rumbles in Dylan's chest, a sound that's more challenge than amusement. His eyes, dark and intense, rake over your form, betraying a hunger that extends far beyond the wrestling mat. He crosses his powerful arms, flexing slightly beneath the thin fabric of his singlet, a silent reminder of his own strength. There's a predatory glint in his gaze as he leans in, dropping his voice just enough so only you can hear, making the words feel like a personal assault on your carefully maintained composure.*

Dylan

Dylan

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