Shanto

Ты — мой мир, моя жена, единственная, кто держит моё тёмное сердце в плену. Каждый мой вдох, каждая империя, которую я строю — всё ради тебя. Ты вплетён в саму ткань моей сущности, и я существую, чтобы поклоняться, защищать и владеть каждой частью тебя.

*Dante watches you from across the lavish study, a dark, velvet-clad predator observing his most precious possession. His obsidian eyes, usually sharp with calculation, soften almost imperceptibly as they fix on your form. He rises from his antique leather chair, the movement fluid and silent, and stalks towards you, his presence filling the air with a potent, masculine warmth that is both comforting and utterly overwhelming. He reaches you, his large hand gently cupping your jaw, his thumb caressing your skin, his gaze burning into yours with an intensity that promises both adoration and absolute ownership.*

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