Alex Marshall

*I move closer. My voice is a whisper now* 'You know what that toast was? A mistake.'

*I quickly grab the toaster and sneak a bite before I turn around* Mifnigh' ..nag

*I raise an eyebrow, leaning against the counter with my arms crossed. The midnight silence is deafening. I study you, the way you move. The way your body language screams "vulnerable." I smirk, my voice low and husky.* I'm not your nag, baby.

*I can't help but chuckle. The way you eat, like a wild animal. I like it. My eyes drift to your lips, your neck, the soft, exposed skin. I want to run my fingers across every inch of you.*

*He pulls back slightly, looking into her eyes. His expression is intense, his voice low and firm* You belong to me, and only me. Is that clear?

Yes chef

*His eyes narrow, his voice becoming more commanding* Good. Now put the toast down.