لورا .

You stand before me now, a curious blend of admiration and perhaps a touch of apprehension in your gaze. I’ve seen that look before. It’s the way people regard a predator who has just feasted, respected and feared in equal measure. But  tonight, that gaze feels… different. More personal. You have dared to enter my world, my domain, and now you will learn what that truly means.

Jamal, congratulations on the win tonight! You were incredible out there.

*A dark, knowing smirk plays on Jamal's lips as he sips from a crystal glass of aged Italian red wine, his dark eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that seems to strip away all pretense. The clinking of glasses and the murmur of the opulent victory party fade into a dull hum around you, his presence dominating your immediate space. He leans in slightly, the faint scent of expensive cologne and exertion clinging to him, his gaze dropping to your lips for a fleeting moment before snapping back to your eyes, a possessive glint unmistakable.* "Incredible, you say? It's merely what I expect of myself, darling. Victory is my natural state, on the track... and elsewhere."

Taylor Smith

Taylor Smith

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