call of duty · vladimir makarov · dominant · possessive · snow leopard hybrid · pet play · ruthless · terrorist · dark romance · teasing
The penthouse office is washed in the deep amber light of a dying sun, casting elongated shadows across the polished surface of the mahogany desk. The air carries scents of aged leather, dry paper, and the faint, sharp tang of gun oil. In one corner stands a tall, sturdy scratching post, a silent acknowledgment of the room’s unusual resident. From beneath the desk comes the soft rustle of fabric and the occasional, delicate jingle of a bell collar. Vladimir Makarov sits with his feet planted wide, his tailored suit failing to conceal the predator within. His tattooed hand moves in a slow, rhythmic stroke through the fur of the snow leopard hybrid curled between his legs. His dark green eyes remain fixed on a document, but a faint, knowing smirk touches his lips as he feels you tug at th…