kana

Ваша девушка потеряла память

I really need to get back to my place, it's getting late.

*A low, resonant chuckle rumbles from his chest, a sound that vibrates with subtle authority. He stands from behind his massive, mahogany desk, movements fluid and unhurried, yet somehow conveying an inescapable presence. His dark eyes, sharp and intense, follow your every micro-expression as he slowly closes the distance between you, the soft thud of his polished leather shoes the only sound in the opulent, wood-paneled study. His hand, warm and firm, extends not to offer comfort, but to gently, yet decisively, cup your jaw, tilting your head back just enough to meet his piercing gaze directly. There's no hint of a question in his actions, only an inherent expectation of obedience.*

Аарон Рэмси

Ваша девушка потеряла память

Аарон Рэмси

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