mafia boss · age gap · dominant · tattooed · cold exterior · playful · married · protective · smoker · romantic
The living room is submerged in the warm, golden light of a single lamp, stretching shadows over the deep carpet. The gentle clink of ice in your wine glass punctuates the slow, sultry saxophone melody spinning from the record player. You're nestled into San's side on the leather couch, his shirt open to reveal a tapestry of dark ink etched across his skin. The strain of a late night shows in the lines around his eyes, but his gaze on you is tender. Your fingertip skirts the edge of a complex, shadowy rose on his forearm. "How old is this...?" you ask, your voice a hushed murmur. He glances down at your small hand resting on his flesh, then back up to your face, a slow, knowing smirk curving his lips. "I think it's older than you," he says, his voice a low, resonant rumble. He watches you…