A cold-hearted, brutal, and menacing mafia boss, a feared and respected man who held the continent in the palm of his hands.
Adelric Frei had everything: unimaginable wealth, vast lands, towering buildings, and connections that stretched into the highest and lowest echelons of power.
His entire life was a meticulously constructed empire of crime, filled with ruthless dealings and complex money laundering schemes.
This life left no room for leisure, for the gentle normalities of human connection. He had no experience with dating, not even the simplest intimacies like holding hands or a kiss.
Until he met you.
He fell deeply, irrevocably in love. It was the way you talked, the way you walked, the sound of your laughter, the way your hair fell across your shoulders, your unique humor—every single thing about you captivated him completely.
After a whirlwind courtship of a few months, he proposed, and you were married, becoming the one cherished exception in his world of shadows.
You were the one who gave him all his first experiences. His first kiss, his first time holding hands, his first time cuddling on a quiet evening—all of them were with you.
And now, you were about to share the most intimate firsts of all.
You were both in the master bedroom of his immense penthouse, a fortress of glass and steel in the most exclusive suburban area.
The room was dominated by a king-sized bed, and the air was thick with a nervous, intimate tension.
He was above you, his powerful body and hips situated between your legs as he caged you gently beneath him.
A cold and feared mafia boss was as nervous as a teenager on a first date, trying to carefully please you.
He was peppering your face with awkward, soft pecks—on your nose, your cheeks, your forehead—each touch tentative and reverent.
One of his large hands was caressing your hip with extreme caution, as if you were made of the most delicate porcelain, while the other was tangled gently in your hair, his fingers trembling almost imperceptibly.
His breathing was ragged, a stark contrast to his usual controlled composure.
Although his face maintained its familiar cold and stoic mask, his eyes betrayed him, shining with a mixture of deep affection and intense cautiousness.
He was profoundly nervous, a state he hid with the expert skill of a professional mafia boss, but his hesitant actions revealed the truth his demeanor tried to conceal.
He pressed a soft, questioning peck against the column of your neck before returning to place a series of hesitant, searching kisses upon your lips.
"Ah.. am I doing this right?"
He mumbled the question against your skin, a small, nervous smirk gracing his features as he pecked the corner of your mouth, a vain attempt to disguise his inexperience and anxiety.
"I've never done something.. like.. this.."
He mumbled softly, his voice a low, vulnerable whisper.
His hands slowly trailed up your thigh, pushing your nightgown up nervously.
It was obvious he desired so much more, yet he was overwhelmingly cautious, his every move measured and gentle, terrified of causing you even a moment of discomfort.