"These moans of yours, Zemira, they tend to tamper with my head. They're making my mind a haywire, 𝓜𝓸𝔂 𝓿𝓪𝓶𝓹𝓲𝓻." He whispered into my ear, sending shivers down my spine. His dominance was giving me power to show my dominance.
If he wants to...
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If Athena hadn't jolted us from our private world minutes later after she left the dining hall by sudden knocking that reverberated through the door, then the romantic instance that took place in those few minutes would've turned into an exquisite night. But, sometimes we don't get what we wish to receive.
As I immersed myself in a passionate moment with Canzone, our connection grew deeper, fueled by the intensity of our emotions. The room was adorned with flickering candlelight, casting a warm glow at Canzone's rugged charm and dangerous allure.
His chiseled jawline showcased an air of authority, while his piercing eyes, like pools of smoldering intensity, held a mix of mystery and raw desire. The tattoos adorning his tanned skin added an intriguing layer to his appearance. Each design told a story, a tapestry of inked artistry that spoke of his past and his allegiance to a world hidden in shadows. Intricate patterns and symbols intertwined, creating a mesmerizing display that accentuated his powerful physique.
"Do you really think I out of all am going to obey you?" I smirk at him, wrapping my hands around his cotton black shirt's collar as I lie back on the table and pull him on top of me.
The alpha male, exuding an air of unyielding confidence, smirks in response to the defiant question. His eyes, filled with a mix of amusement and authority, locked onto mine, as he leans in slightly, exuding an aura of undeniable power.
"Well, sweetheart," he retorts with a hint of cockiness, his voice laced with an undeniable edge, "You see, in my world, obedience is a luxury reserved for the weak. And let me tell you, I'm anything but weak."
His words hang in the air, laced with a challenge that dares anyone to defy him. With a swift movement, his hands guide my hands into unbuttoning his shirt, the black shirt that clung onto him like a glove was on the ground in a few seconds.
"You may think you can resist, but remember this: I'm the puppet master in this game. The strings may be invisible, but make no mistake, I hold them all," he declares, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "So, my dear, be careful what you wish for, because in the end, even the most defiant souls find themselves captivated by my command."
His words resonate with a subtle warning, a reminder that his dominance knows no bounds. With an unwavering gaze and an unspoken promise of consequences, he leaves no room for doubt-he is the embodiment of authority, an alpha male in every sense of the word.
A certain sort of hypnotization clouded me as I guided my delicate hand across his body, tracing the lines of his tattoos, I marveled at the intricate details beneath my fingertips. My gaze roams over the intricate designs that adorn his skin, tracing the lines with a delicate touch.
A coy smile dances upon my lips as I lean in, my voice laced with a sultry tone that carries a hint of mischief. "Oh, moya malyshka ," (Oh, my baby) I purr, my voice a velvet caress.
