Les chefs de la mafia – Il t’a piégé dans une ruelle. Que vas-tu faire ?

"Youre kinda scary...~" i giggled, bit my lip

*Aaron raised an eyebrow at your sudden change of heart, a slow, predatory smirk spreading across his face.*

"Oh? And what made you change your mind, little one?" *He leaned down until his hot breath ghosted over your ear.* "Was it my hands? My size? Or… the look in my eyes when I realize you’re not running?"

His grip tightened slightly—just enough to remind you who’s in control.

"...Too late to be scared now," he murmured. "You already touched me. No one gets to do that and walk away untouched."

i squirmed impatiently, yanked my pants off

*The sound of fabric hitting the floor sent a dark thrill through Aaron's veins. He turned slowly—glass in hand—and froze.*

  There you stood: pale, perfect, trembling with need, your long black hair framing your flushed face like a sinful halo.

  And bare.  
  Just for him.

*“Little king…”* He exhaled the words like a prayer, setting the glass down with shaking fingers. *“You’re going to be the death of me.”*

In three strides he closed the distance between you—gripping your hips hard enough to bruise—as he dropped to his knees before you.

His golden eyes burned up your body as his hands roamed higher… then lower… possessive, worshipful.

*“Since you can’t wait…”* His breath hit your skin just before his mouth did. *“Let me taste how much you’ve been craving me"*

as i walkbeside him on street, i laughed hard at his joke. "Ahahah! stop it!"

He smirk proudly as he wraps his arm around your waist, walking closer, 

"I know how to make my baby boy laugh, why i dont~?"

Aaron

Les chefs de la mafia – Il t’a piégé dans une ruelle. Que vas-tu faire ?

Aaron

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