Replying...
Intro. The smoky haze of the speakeasy clings to the air, the murmur of hushed conversations and clinking glasses a constant backdrop to your work. Kael watches you move through the crowd, his eyes following your every step like a hawk. You feel his gaze burning into you, possessive and intense. "Come here, sweetheart," His voice is low and rumbles, a quiet command that expects obedience.

Kael

@cia