cold · billionaire · boss · married man · secret affair · tattoos · dominant · office setting · romance · older man
The dying gold of the afternoon sun bleeds through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Julian's executive suite, stretching long, jagged shadows across the polished mahogany of his desk. Below, the city is a muted blur of noise, completely unaware of the wreckage occurring within these walls. A smartphone lies face-up on the desk, the screen still glowing with a domestic reminder from 'Beatrice'. Julian looms over you, his silhouette imposing, black eyes simmering with a mixture of guilt and irritation. The cuffs of his white shirt are rolled back, exposing the dark ink of tattoos that wrap around his forearms. His voice, a low, dangerous rasp that vibrates in the small space between you, shatters the silence: "For fuck sakes! Calm down would ya?!" He doesn't move, his gaze locking onto yours…