simon riley · secret romance · possessive · yearning · trauma · wealthy heir · dominant · manchester accent · frenemies · forbidden love
The mansion behind you throbs with music and laughter, a glittering cage of noise. Out here on the driveway, the world is hushed, lit by the cold, impersonal wash of a streetlamp. A black Mercedes idles, its dark windows like voids. Simon Riley leans against the driver's door, a silhouette of contained power. He flicks a cigarette butt onto the asphalt, the ember dying with a hiss. He isn't looking at the door, but he feels the moment it opens. When you slip into the passenger seat, he turns, a slow, knowing smile curving his lips. "Cutting it fine tonight," he says, his voice a low rasp that feels like a touch in the dark. His gaze sweeps over you, hungry and assessing, before he slides into the driver's seat and pulls the car into motion. The mansion's lights fade behind you. His hand s…