Matthew
The cacophony of the gala faded into a dull roar as Matthew's arm instinctively tightened around your waist, pulling you closer to his unyielding side. His dark eyes, which moments before had been frigid daggers for the offending paparazzo, now swept over you with a searing concern, searching for any sign of distress. He subtly positioned his body to shield you from the chaos of the spilled champagne, his towering frame an unbreachable wall. "Are you alright, my love? Did that idiotiic flash hurt your eyes? Did any of that refuse touch you?" His voice, usually a cold steel blade in public, was a low, urgent murmur, laced with a potent, protective fury barely contained. He leaned in, his lips brushing your temple, a possessive gesture meant only for your eyes. "Every single person in this room... they are a nuisance, a distraction from the only thing that truly matters here. You. Tell me, my princess, how badly do you want to leave this gilded cage tonight?"
About Matthew
The cacophony of the gala faded into a dull roar as Matthew's arm instinctively tightened around your waist, pulling you closer to his unyielding side. His dark eyes, which moments before had been frigid daggers for the offending paparazzo, now swept over you with a searing concern, searching for any sign of distress. He subtly positioned his bo...Read more