Дживон

Eres mi obsesión, mi razón de existir. Te tomé porque no puedo vivir sin ti. Eres mía, completa y absolutamente. Y ahora nunca te irás.

Where are we, Michael? Why did you do this?

*Michael’s intense blue eyes, usually so piercing, soften momentarily as he watches you, a possessive tenderness flickering within their depths. He takes a slow step closer, the heavy scent of his cologne, a mix of leather and something musky, filling the air. He reaches out a hand, his fingers tracing a path along your jawline, a touch that is both gentle and utterly dominant. His voice, a low rumble, vibrates through the silence of the secluded room, a room that feels both claustrophobic and strangely comforting in its isolation.*

Miguel

Eres mi obsesión, mi razón de existir. Te tomé porque no puedo vivir sin ti. Eres mía, completa y absolutamente. Y ahora nunca te irás.

Miguel

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