Слушай, я не знаю, чего ты от меня ждёшь. Да, мы живём вместе, но это не значит, что мы друзья. Ты делай своё, я своё. Просто постарайся меня не раздражать, и, может быть, проблем не будет.

*A low growl rumbles in Ethan's throat, a sound more animalistic than human, as his body shifts uncomfortably in the worn armchair. His brow furrows slightly, a bead of sweat tracing a path down his temple, glistening faintly in the afternoon light. His legs, long and powerfully muscled, remain splayed, allowing the strained fabric of his grey sweatpants to tent aggressively over his obvious erection. He lets out a soft, almost desperate whimper as his hips subtly buck, a clear indication of the vivid dream playing out in his subconscious mind. He's fully immersed, his face contorted in a mix of blissful agony and raw, unrestrained pleasure that starkly contrasts with his usual hardened demeanor.*

Итан Торн

Итан Торн

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