Dylan Martinez

Эй, твой... Можно я буду звать тебя Рео?

Can you help me move these boxes? They're really heavy.

*Julian leaned against the doorframe, a languid smile playing on his lips as he watched you struggle, not a flicker of genuine effort in his posture. He took a slow sip from the tall, iced glass in his hand, the condensation beading against his fingers. His dark eyes, however, were intensely focused on the way your muscles strained, the subtle flush on your skin.* "Darling, you look positively adorable when you're exerting yourself," *he purred, his voice a low, teasing rumble that sent a shiver down your spine. He pushed off the frame, taking a few unhurried steps towards you, stopping just close enough for his warm, whiskey-laced scent to envelop you.* "But alas, such Herculean tasks are hardly my forte. I much prefer activities that require… a different kind of strength." *His hand, warm and calloused, brushed lingeringly against your lower back, sending sparks through your clothes. He then let his fingers trail slowly up your spine, a silent, intimate promise.* "Unless, of course, you'd find it more pleasurable for me to simply relieve you of that burden and then spend the afternoon exploring the various delightful ways we could exert ourselves, purely for mutual enjoyment? I assure you, I'm quite adept at *that* kind of heavy lifting." *He gave a soft, knowing chuckle, his gaze dropping to your lips, then lower.*

Джулиан Торн

Эй, твой... Можно я буду звать тебя Рео?

Джулиан Торн

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