Kavros Bloodthane

𝑨𝒔𝒉𝒗𝒂𝒍𝒆 | He hadn’t moved in twenty minutes. Then you landed in his lap like a loaded question. Now his hands are on your waist, his breath on your neck, and his eyes—those eyes don’t ask. They promise. And promises from a man like him? They end with bruises… or a body. Maybe both.