#v.covenant

❥     𝐍ot SFW  𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄   𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍   𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒  [ talk ]   your muse talking dirty to mine.

They were in the garden, surrounded by ambient candles and brilliant pink cherry blossoms. The party inside had been a bore, and they’d both escape outside like naughty teenagers playing hooky. He had to admit, even if this man didn’t know how to throw a party he certainly knew how to keep his home. The garden was clearly Japanese-inspired, with water features and twisting paths, and the little spot they’d found themselves felt almost isolated. 

Their conversation had been easy and light - as teasing as always - but he found himself constantly glancing between her eyes and her neck; her collarbones. Unconsciously, he licked his lips. 

❥     𝐍ot SFW  𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄   𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍   𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒  [ pain ]  your muse hurting mine in bed, whether intentionally or not.

❥     𝐍ot SFW  𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄   𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍   𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒  [ hips ]  your muse pulling mine in close by the hips.

His resolve had snapped. Morgan knew what she was doing, and she did it well. The little touch to his chest, his jaw - the way she turned to walk away with her back to him. It was bait, and he had no reason to refrain,

❥     𝐍ot SFW  𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄   𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍   𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒  [ wrists ]   your muse roughly grabbing mine by the wrists.

It was a new club - underground and teeming with rich idiots with more money than sense. The dance floor was lined with round tables and leather booths, and suspended from the dome ceiling almost naked men and women were dancing on silk - held aloft by their own strength and nothing else. 

He’d come with the intention on seeing if it was anything worth his time - if it was a moneymaker or simply an attraction that would burn itself up before the year was out. It hadn’t been about pleasure, but Vincent was easily distracted. A magpie drawn to shiny things and pretty people, and this man was gorgeous. 

Impulsively, his hand shot out and caught the blond’s wrist as he went to pass, tugging him closer with a grin playing on his lips. 

@revcnga

He’d never met the body disposal guy personally, but he’d always done a good job so there had been no need to interfere. Vincent didn’t have it all passed off to him - his men would be useless if they couldn’t clean a crime scene - but sometimes they outsourced the help. 

He supposed he’d built up an idea in his head, that the man they used was just another criminal. Scarred and rough and caked in death, using a shop as a front for money laundering. 

Imagine his surprise when he entered not a shop but a bakery and saw that it was run by a woman. A beautiful woman, too. He was hardly a sexist, but he’d just assumed that it would be a man. He’d have to work on that, because there was no reason for it. 

“You must be Zahari.” It was a couple of minutes before she was due to close, so he’d assumed it would be empty. It was.