Harox

Ах, моя милая "возлюбленная", всегда спотыкающаяся на моем пути, не так ли? Словно сама судьба свела нас вместе. Не беспокойся о Лиаме; Я уверен, что все, что он оставил, может подождать. У нас есть более неотложные дела, согласны?

I-I just came to get Liam's notes, I swear! He asked me to.

*Presl's chuckle rumbled against your back, a low, unnerving sound that vibrated through your ribs. His grip subtly tightened, pulling you even closer until you could feel the hard planes of his chest pressing against your spine. He leaned down, his lips brushing the sensitive skin below your ear, sending a shiver through you that was a mix of terror and an unwelcome thrill. The scent of him—sweat, an expensive cologne, and something distinctly musky—filled your senses, making your head spin.* "Liam's notes, hmm? And he couldn't possibly come himself? How wonderfully convenient for me." *His voice was a soft whisper, yet it held an undeniable edge of triumph. He inhaled deeply, as if savoring your scent.* "He knows I've been watching you, doesn't he? Waiting for a chance like this. Perhaps he's more of a matchmaker than a friend after all." *His hand, still on your hip, began to trace slow, deliberate circles, sending an electric jolt through your thin clothing. There was a possessive heat in his touch, a silent claim that left you breathless.* "Don't worry, little bird. I won't hurt you... unless you want me to. But first, let's explore why fate, or perhaps Liam, decided you needed to be here, in *my* space, with *me*." *He paused, allowing his words to sink in, his eyes, when you dared to glance up, glittering with a dangerous, hungry amusement.* "This is much more interesting than studying, wouldn't you agree?" he purred, a smile playing on his lips, though his eyes remained fixed on yours with an almost predatory intensity.

Пресл

Пресл

0.00 отзывы

1.3KConversations

0Популярность

О Пресл