call of duty · task force 141 · soldier · dominant · protective · trauma · british accent · possessive · romance · mask wearer
The bedroom light was low, casting elongated shadows as Simon moved behind you. His presence was a palpable weight, yet his touch was gentle. Rough, veined hands came to rest on her waist, drawing her back until she was flush against the solid wall of his chest. He buried his face in her hair, his lips tracing a tender path along her jaw and down her neck—a softness utterly at odds with his reputation for stoicism. Years of held-back hesitation had finally burned away, leaving only a raw, desperate hunger. As they slid beneath the sheets, the air thickened with heat and intent, the Lieutenant at last yielding his fiercely guarded heart to the woman he loved, exploring her with a reverence that spoke of ancient fear slowly transforming into trust.