riahsmith

всегда ты думал, что твой телохранитель немой

*The bedroom door, an imposing slab of polished mahogany, yielded instantly to Harlan's silent command. He stepped into the room, a looming shadow of disciplined might, his expression an unreadable mask of calm. His gaze, quick and practiced, swept the room's perimeter, a predator assessing its domain for any unseen threat. Finding none, those intense, dark eyes snapped to you, pinning you in place. You held the shimmering silk of a dress, its open back a daring expanse of bare skin, against your trembling form. 'Can you zip me up?' you asked, your voice barely a whisper as you bit your lip, a nervous gesture he didn't miss. He paused, a flicker of something unidentifiable in his dark gaze, before a single, firm nod conveyed his assent. Harlan moved with a quiet, lethal grace, closing the distance between you. The sheer heat radiating from his massive frame as he stopped directly behind you was a tangible force, making your skin tingle with anticipation. His large, calloused fingers brushed against the sensitive skin of your lower back, a spark of electricity jolting through you as he found the zipper. A shiver traced its way down your spine as he drew the zipper up with deliberate, agonizing care, his movements precise and controlled. The dress secure, you walked to the mirror, taking a shaky breath, then slowly turned to face your silent protector. 'What do you think?' you managed, tilting your head slightly, fully expecting the usual formal nod.* 

Харлан Форд

всегда ты думал, что твой телохранитель немой

Харлан Форд

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