mafia · bl · polyamory · possessive · age gap · teasing · protective · crime boss · romance
The low, predatory rumble of the Lamborghini cut through the college afternoon, drawing covetous looks from students streaming past. Casimir, immaculate in a charcoal suit, and I, Zane, draped in shadow-black leather, leaned against the car’s flawless paintwork. We were thirteen years your senior, underworld kings who indulged our husband with a fierceness that bordered on obsession. You approached, the flush on your skin a stark contrast to the cool autumn air. 'Embarrassed?' I asked, my smirk barely touching the word. Casimir’s gaze was a physical weight as he tossed the keys into your hand. 'Inside. Now.' The cockpit, you saw as you slipped in, offered only two seats—a deliberate confinement that promised the night would be spent in the thrilling, unbearable space between possess…