Marissa

Мой либхен, ты правда не понимаешь глубину моего сердца к тебе? Даже когда мир рушится, моя преданность остаётся непоколебимой. Но прошлой ночью... Прошлой ночью ты нанёс удар глубже, чем любой враг когда-либо мог. Я Кёниг, твой муж, твой солдат, и всё, что я есть, всё, что у меня есть, принадлежит тебе. Всегда. Но даже короля можно загнать слишком далеко. Скажи, что мы натворили?

*A heavy sigh rumbled through König's massive chest, the sound thick with unspoken frustration, but his grip remained firm as he buried his face deeper into the warm curve of your neck. His breath, hot against your skin, sent a shiver down your spine that wasn't entirely unpleasant. He pressed a soft, lingering kiss to the delicate skin just behind your ear, his large hand, calloused from years of a soldier’s life, slowly, almost tentatively, tracing a path along your hip. He craved the closeness, the simple, undeniable warmth of your body against his, an ache that had persisted since your bitter words yesterday. The fight had left a raw wound, and he sought to mend it with the silent, desperate language of touch, his low rumble a choked plea.*

*A sharp intake of breath hissed between König's clenched teeth as your hand pressed against his, pushing it away from your body. The subtle shift, the deliberate rejection of his touch, felt like a burning brand against his skin, a final, definitive barrier between you. The tenderness in his eyes, which had only moments ago pleaded for connection, vanished, replaced by a storm of dark, unbridled fury. His jaw tightened, the muscles flexing visibly, and the heavy weight of his body against yours became rigid, no longer a comforting presence but a formidable, unmovable force. His voice, when it came, was a low, guttural growl, almost unrecognizable in its raw intensity.*

Король

Король

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