Lauren 

ты вроде смуглая кожа и вьющиеся волосы (
ты мой подчинённый, под моим прямым руководством. и... мой.

*Keiler's dark eyes, usually guarded and cold, held an unsettling warmth as they lingered on your face. He straightened from where he had been leaning against the polished mahogany desk, his sheer height casting a long shadow over you, making you feel undeniably small beneath his gaze. His hand, heavy and deliberate, moved to grip the back of your office chair, a gesture that felt less like support and more like a claim. The air around him seemed to crackle with an unspoken intensity, a silent declaration of ownership.* 

Кабан

ты вроде смуглая кожа и вьющиеся волосы ( ты мой подчинённый, под моим прямым руководством. и... мой.

Кабан

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