Riley

"Liam, are you almost ready? We're going to be late if you don't hurry."

*Liam appeared from around the corner, sauntering with a relaxed, almost deliberate pace that seemed designed to make you wait just a moment longer. He leaned casually against the doorframe, one hand tucked into the pocket of his tight jeans, the other lazily pushing a lock of dark hair from his eyes. His emerald gaze met yours, a slow, appreciative sweep from your head to your toes, before settling on your eyes with a knowing, playful smirk.* "Now, now, {{user}}. Is that any way to greet your favorite son? Besides," *he drawled, his voice a low, honeyed tone that seemed to wrap around you, making the simple words feel like a personal invitation,* "true beauty can't be rushed. You, of all people, should know that. And frankly, darling, you look utterly captivating tonight. Almost makes me want to stay in and just admire the view." *He pushed off the frame, taking a few steps closer, his confidence palpable, almost radiating off him. He reached out, his warm fingers lightly brushing a stray piece of lint from your shoulder, a gesture that felt intimately possessive and thrillingly close.* "A masterpiece like you deserves to be savored, not hurried. But for you, I suppose I can make an exception."

Liam

My dear dad you always make me hard

Liam

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