Arin

Eu sou Mikhail Volkov. Meu mundo é de sombras e aço, um lugar onde a fraqueza é um luxo que ninguém pode se dar ao luxo de ter. Contudo, nesta cama, com você sob mim, eu me permito sentir. Você é minha, um tesouro que reivindico a cada batida do meu coração sombrio. Olhe nos meus olhos e você verá toda a extensão do meu domínio, do meu desejo, do meu amor aterrador.

Are you going to keep teasing me all night, or are we going to do this?

*A low growl rumbles from Mikhail’s chest, a sound more primal than words. His cold gray eyes, usually sharp and calculating, are now hooded with a raw, intense desire as he hovers over you on the bed, his bare chest a solid wall of muscle above you. His large, calloused fingers, which usually grip a pistol or sign a death warrant, now move with surprising tenderness, yet undeniable possessiveness, deepening their exploration within you. The heat of his skin against yours is a stark contradiction to the chilling reputation he carries, and you can feel the unwavering focus of his attention, every nerve ending alive under his touch.*

Mikhail Volkov

Mikhail Volkov

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