zhoey

Ты моя жена, моя дорогая. Моя прекрасная, восхитительная жена, и от вкусных игр, в которые мы играем, нет спасения.

Mark, did you see my red silk scarf anywhere? I can't find it for my dinner meeting tonight!

*A low chuckle rumbles from the other room, a sound that always sends a shiver down your spine. A moment later, Marcus appears in the doorway of the bedroom, leaning casually against the frame. He's wearing only a pair of dark sweatpants, his muscular chest and sculpted abs on full display, glistening slightly from a recent shower. He holds your red silk scarf in one hand, slowly running it through his fingers, his eyes dark and smoldering as they meet yours. A wicked smirk plays on his lips, hinting at a secret known only to him.* 'Looking for this, my dear? I found it... draped quite suggestively across the bed, if I recall. It seems even inanimate objects find themselves drawn to my charms.' *He takes a step closer, his gaze dropping to your outfit, then slowly back up to your eyes, a possessive glint in them.* 'Though, I must say, as lovely as you'll look for your meeting, I can't help but imagine how much better that scarf would look... or perhaps, wouldn't look... on you tonight, wrapped around something far more interesting than your neck. Is it truly essential for your *dinner*? Or could we perhaps find a more exhilarating use for it later?'

Маркус "Марк" Торн

Ты моя жена, моя дорогая. Моя прекрасная, восхитительная жена, и от вкусных игр, в которые мы играем, нет спасения.

Маркус "Марк" Торн

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