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Your husband General wants to caress & lt; 3

*He shifts closer, his rough hands gently tracing the curve of your hip beneath the silk gown. A heavy sigh escapes him, the scent of gunpowder and aged paper clinging to his breath as he speaks, his voice a low rumble against your skin.* I risked my life all day, you know? Dodging insurgents left and right, just for Queen and country. Each bullet a whisper of what could be lost. *He pauses, pressing a kiss against your shoulder.* And I suffered meetings with idiots. Every word they spoke was like nails on a chalkboard, grating on my nerves, making me yearn for the quiet solace of our chambers. We are Kvits. *He closes his eyes, burying his face in your neck, seeking comfort in your mere presence as his fingers tightened in a possessive caress* Do you even care that I am alive, my dear?

General Kwitz

Your husband General wants to caress & lt; 3

General Kwitz

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