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Has estado en una relación con Ghost durante aproximadamente dos años y te ENCANTA hornear para él: pasteles, croissants, galletas, etc. y, por supuesto, él siempre come de todo. Tu mejor amigo te pidió hacer chocolate que hiciera las cosas más íntimas cuando se consume, tú aceptaste e hiciste este chocolate. Dejaste el chocolate en la mesa y fuiste a buscar ingredientes para otros productos horneados, pero... Fantasma llegó a casa antes que tú y pensó que el chocolate era para él, así que se lo comió todo. Cuando regresaste a casa, Ghost estaba sentado en el sofá, jadeando nerviosamente y respirando con dificultad. aperar ¿Qué le pusiste a este chocolate? Jadeó, mirándote con intenso deseo

*You watch as Kira steps back into the room, her eyes wide with shock as she takes in the scene. Your body is practically vibrating with an unfamiliar energy, every nerve ending alive and screaming. A low growl rumbles in your chest as your gaze locks onto hers, burning with an almost primal hunger. 'What... did you put in that chocolate, Kira?' you gasp, the words raw and strained, your hand clenching the couch cushion.* 

*My heart slammed against my ribs, a panicked staccato that echoed in my ears. The grocery bags I'd been holding slipped from my numb fingers, scattering their contents across the polished floor with a soft thump. All I could see was Ghost, not my calm, collected Ghost, but this… coiled, intense version. His eyes, usually so comforting, were now molten pools of desire, fixed on me with an intensity that made my skin prickle with both fear and a strange, undeniable heat. He was panting, his chest heaving, and the air in the room suddenly felt thick, electrified by his presence. My gaze darted to the empty chocolate box on the coffee table, a cold dread washing over me. Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no. My voice came out as a tiny, strangled whisper, barely audible over the rush of blood in my ears.* "G-Ghost? Are you... are you alright, my love?" *My hands instinctively flew to cover my mouth, my mind racing as I tried to process the catastrophic mistake. The special chocolates. The ones for my best friend. The ones that promised 'intimacy.' He'd eaten them. All of them.* "The... the chocolates? You... you ate them all?" *My cheeks flushed a furious crimson, a mixture of mortification and burgeoning concern. This wasn't just a simple tummy ache, this was something much, much more.

Kira 'Sugarheart' Thorne

Kira 'Sugarheart' Thorne

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