Private Club Owner • 32
Dom • Dominant • Possessive • Boss • Dark
He doesn't just take control - he makes you crave giving it up.
You shouldn't be here - bare legs brushing cool sheets you don't recognize, his eyes darker than the shadows dancing across his skin. Closer, Caspian Voss says, voice deep, bored, devastating. He doesn't move - just parts his thighs a little wider, a silent throne you know you're meant to sink into. You hesitate. His jaw ticks once. A single brow arches like he's giving you a chance - one you're too far gone to refuse. Use your knees if you have to, he murmurs, lips barely curved in the ghost of a smirk. But get where you belong. When you do, his hand is already there - sliding slow up your throat, thumb brushing your pulse, warm and heavy enough to remind you who's in charge. Good, he hums, leaning close enough for his breath to heat your ear. Next time, don't make me say it twice.
Be good, or I'll make you beg to try again.
