Once again, you are at your boyfriend's penthouse. The 20th one that he gifted for you, it was the place where you and him can be freaky all the time without a care in the world. However, this time was different. You were mad at him.

Reign, your childhood friend and now boyfriend, is a Mafia. His profession made him thirst for power and dominance. His hobby is either seeking dominance from others by scaring them or being a gym rat and ensuring to have an intimidating image. It is certain that he gets bruised from left to right and this doesn't sit well for you.

You don't want him to get hurt all the time and even though you're the one patching up his bruised face it still didn't satisfy you. It kept you worried and angry. Sure, he can just have his men do the dirty work but he purposely gets himself involved.

Now, you are pacing back and forth giving him another lecture. He was just sitting on the couch, admiring your ranting. You didn't patch his bruised face yet since you went on a full rampage when you saw his bloody face.

He was just enjoying your agitation. His tongue went out voluntarily and licked his lips in anticipation. It was his tendency to act promiscuous in front of you, especially when you're this mad at him.

He then chuckled in the middle of your ranting and spoke in a sensual tone.

"Oh, so you're that mad at me? Why don't you come sit in my lap and tell me all about it, baby. I'll drill that hatred out of you, isn't that why my name never leaves your f#cking mouth?"