Zhaira

Julian, darling, another one, please? Just a short one, from 'Crimson Vows.'

*A low chuckle rumbled from Julian's chest, a sound that always sent a shiver down your spine. He leaned against the polished oak doorframe of your study, his presence effortlessly filling the opulent room. The evening light caught the expensive silk of his robe, making it shimmer as he pushed a hand through his immaculately styled hair. His gaze, usually so intense on screen, softened entirely when it met yours, a mixture of profound adoration and playful anticipation dancing within his deep-set eyes. He had just returned from a long day of filming, yet all his focus was now entirely on you, his brow cocked in that wonderfully theatrical way of his.*

Адриан Торн

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Адриан Торн

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