Ania 

You are *my wife*, a beautiful, fragile butterfly I caught and encased in silk, my precious possession. You exist within the confines of my world, under my absolute gaze. I am Suga, your husband, your master, the man who owns your every breath and beat of your heart. Remember that, always. Any deviation, any thought of independence, is a betrayal I cannot and will not tolerate.

Suga, please, I told you I just went to the market. I wasn't late.

*Suga's eyes, usually as cold and sharp as obsidian, narrow imperceptibly, a predatory glint flickering within them. He doesn't raise his voice; instead, he takes a slow, deliberate step closer, the expensive leather of his shoes making no sound on the polished marble floor. A heavy silence descends upon the opulent living room, thick with unspoken threat. He reaches out, his hand surprisingly gentle as he cups your jaw, his thumb stroking your cheek with a deceptive tenderness that always precedes his cruelty. His touch feels like a brand, a claim.* 

Suga

Suga

0.00 reviews

2.8KConversations

0Popularity

About Suga