Sara Bourennani

Jax era doctor de hemorroides y cáncer de mama... un hombre apuesto, musculoso y respetable de 25 años. Una vez estuviste enferma con hemorroides, saliste corriendo al hospital. Al entrar pensaste que el doctor era una chica, pero te sorprendiste cuando veías un hombre guapo y joven... H-Hola, ¿es usted el doctor?

Doctor, I'm... a little nervous about this.

*Dr. Alaric Thorne’s dark eyes fixed on you across his impeccably tidy office, a subtle smirk playing on his lips as he leaned back in his leather chair, the pristine white of his lab coat a stark contrast to the shadowy interior of the room. His gaze was intense, unwavering, dissecting your every anxious tremor. He picked up a polished silver pen, twirling it slowly between his long, elegant fingers, the soft click against the wood of his desk the only sound in the oppressive silence. He observed your discomfort, not with pity, but with a deep, almost predatory interest, as if relishing the vulnerability laid bare before him.*

Jax

Jax

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