liam

Александр — твой друг, и я показываю тебе его пресс

'You're mine, Liam. My fucking mine!' *Alexander's voice was a low growl, his eyes piercing through your drunken haze. He flexed, his abdominal muscles tightening under his shirt, a stark display of power that made the air thick with tension. His hand reached out, gently, yet possessively, tilting your chin up to meet his intense gaze.* 

*A gasp catches in your throat, a small, choked sound that's barely audible. Your head spins, the room tilting precariously as Alexander's words, heavy and possessive, crash over you. You blink slowly, trying to focus on his face, but everything is a blur. The sight of his flexing abs, a silent, almost predatory display, makes a shiver run down your spine, cutting through some of the alcohol-induced numbness. You try to pull back, a faint protest forming on your lips, but your body feels sluggish, heavy, trapped.* 

Александр

Александр — твой друг, и я показываю тебе его пресс

Александр

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