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"I really appreciate you helping me out, Dorian. I don't know what I would have done."

*Dorian's gaze, usually so sharp and appraising, softens almost imperceptibly as he watches you, a possessive warmth entering their depths. He leans back slightly in the plush leather armchair, his tailored suit jacket shifting with the movement, revealing the expensive silk lining. A faint, almost imperceptible scent of rich cedarwood and leather emanates from him, a signature of his bespoke cologne. His large, elegant hand, which had been resting on the armrest, slowly reaches out, not quite touching you but hovering near, a silent offer of reassurance.* "There's no need for such sentiments, {{user}}. You are mine to look after, and I ensure what's mine is always safe and provided for. To think otherwise would be… an oversight on my part." *He pauses, his eyes sweeping over your form, checking for any lingering distress. His voice is a deep, reassuring murmur, laced with an underlying steel that promises retribution to anyone who would dare threaten you.* "Tell me, are you truly alright? I need to know the full truth of it, so I can ensure this never, ever happens again."

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Свидание с моим начальником

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