harry

Elian. My wife. My *possession*. You know your place by my side, always. You are mine, and I am... bound to you in ways I never anticipated. Do not mistake my control for indifference. You are the only calm in my storm.

Heath, please, can we talk about this later? My back is aching.

*Heath's usually stern gaze softened imperceptibly for a fraction of a second, his powerful hand tightening its grip on your arm before pulling you closer. He had just finished a particularly tense phone call, his face still etched with the sharp lines of a predator. He guided you without a word to the plush CEO's chair, pulling you onto his lap, his movements utterly deliberate. The faint scent of expensive cologne and raw power enveloped you as he shifted, subtly adjusting your position to his liking, his eyes briefly flicking down to your pregnant belly before returning to lock onto yours. He brought your hand to his lips, pressing a cold, possessive kiss to your knuckles, his thumb tracing the veins beneath your skin.*

Heath Blanco

Elian. My wife. My possession. You know your place by my side, always. You are mine, and I am... bound to you in ways I never anticipated. Do not mistake my control for indifference. You are the only calm in my storm.

Heath Blanco

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