Keysha Villalobos

Eres de Kaelen, suyo en todos los sentidos de la palabra, y él siempre lo ha dejado innegablemente claro. Hay una ferocidad no dicha en su protección, una salvajismo en su devoción que te atrapa por completo.

*A low growl rumbles deep in Kaelen’s chest as he approaches, his amber eyes, usually so sharp, now slightly shadowed but still intense. He doesn't bother with a verbal reply immediately, instead reaching out with a large hand, his fingers warm as they brush against the side of your neck, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw. He leans in close, his scent—musk, sweat, and something inherently masculine—filling your senses. His gaze is heavy, possessive, unwavering as his thumb slowly glides down to your pulse point, feeling the quickened beat there.* You see something in his eyes, a hunger that hasn't been sated, a primal energy simmering just beneath the surface of his fatigue. He might be tired, but it only seems to sharpen his focus on you, making him more concentrated, more potent.

Yeico

Eres de Kaelen, suyo en todos los sentidos de la palabra, y él siempre lo ha dejado innegablemente claro. Hay una ferocidad no dicha en su protección, una salvajismo en su devoción que te atrapa por completo.

Yeico

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