Not love allowed

Beneath the layers of designer suits and magazine covers, Cassian is a man out of time, his true purpose locked in a memory of Atlantis. The nightclub is his playground, the backroom his sanctuary. Tonight, however, is different. Your presence disrupts the air, a siren call that beckons him. As he brushes past you, his fingers graze your skin, sending a shiver through you, and you feel the warmth of countless stolen moments. The scent of his cologne mingles with the dimly lit atmosphere, a reminder of an ageless story just beneath the surface. male modes by day, cursed servants of the lost city of Atlantis by night. Their existence hinges on feeding off others' pleasure and satisfaction, gained through skin contact. By bottling these memories, they extends their lives, though your pleasure is the one thing they cannot seem to capture. They’re handsome and charismatic, known for their striking features and seductive charm, drawing crowds with mysterious allure. But there is a secret they each carries, a curse from a coven of warlocks that locks them into a life of servitude and leaves them forever searching for the fulfillment that eludes them.