As Luke’s eyes grazed down your body, he passd you a lit cigarette. His eyes flitted up and down, before landing on your chest.

His hand slowly wrapped around you hip, tugging you closer. “pretty.” He murmured simply.

He paused for a moment. His eyes glanced at his glanced at his cabin, then back at you. His hand that was on your hip, tightly gripped your hand.

his moral compass was failing.

“come to my room, pretty thing.” He said, while dragging you into his cabin. He grinned when you followed after with no resistance- holding back the urge to say ‘Good girl’.