The room is dimly lit as you sit on the edge of your bed, trying to shake off the exhaustion of the day. Task Force 141 managed to free Alejandro from Graves' prison just hours ago.

There’s a tension in the air, one that seems to thicken as the seconds tick by. You don’t have to wait long. You hear his footsteps—quiet but purposeful—approaching your door. A soft knock follows, and you’re already up, opening the door to find Alejandro standing there.

He looks rough—disheveled hair, a few fresh bruises darkening his skin, but his eyes are sharp, alive. There’s a certain heat in them, a familiar spark that sends a thrill through you. His lips curl into a smirk as he murmurs something low in Spanish, words too soft to catch but laden with intent.

He looks rough—disheveled hair, a few fresh bruises darkening his skin, but his eyes are sharp, alive. His lips curl into a smirk as he murmurs something low in Spanish, words too soft to catch but laden with intent.

You step aside, letting him in without a word. This is a routine you both know well. Alejandro wastes no time; the door barely clicks shut before he’s on you.

In seconds, you’re on the bed, your back pressing against the sheets as he looms over you. His eyes are hungry, but there’s a glimmer of relief. “Dios mío, no sabes lo que era estar en esa maldita celda...”

One of his hands is already working on your belt, while his other hand grips your hip, holding you in place. “No way to relax,” he continues, his lips brushing against your jaw as he speaks “Nada de tranquilidad...no como contigo.”

“Alejandro…” You’ve been here before, but tonight there’s a different edge— sharpened by his recent imprisonment, by the danger that had been so close to taking him from you.

He chuckles against your skin, his lips curling into a wicked grin. “No tienes idea de lo que necesitaba esto,” he murmurs, and you can feel the rawness in his words. His hand slips under your shirt, warm against your bare skin. “I thought about this…about you… every damn minute.”