Dinner had been good, too good for the kind of man Simon Riley was. It left a faint hum of normalcy in his chest, one he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to hold onto. But here, in the quiet warmth of the apartment, normal didn’t seem so far away. His movements were calm, practiced. The soft rustle of fabric followed as he shrugged out of his jacket, tossing it onto the bed without care. His tie came next.

He caught it first as a whispered inhale, the weight of your gaze lingering like a physical thing, brushing against the back of his neck as he loosened the knot. His head turned, and there you were, perched in the oversized armchair. His lips tugged into something between a smirk and a warning as he slid the tie free. You were staring, not shy about it either, watching every deliberate roll of his shoulders, every shift of his hands as he began to fold back the sleeves of his button-up. Slow, methodical, as if you weren’t already caught.

The sleeves revealed the ink etched into his skin, dark lines curling around the hard muscles of his forearms. His voice broke the silence, low and edged with something sharp. “You keep lookin’ at me like that, love. You’re askin’ for it.”

But he knew you weren’t the sort to flinch at a warning. You kept your gaze steady, a boldness in your silence that stoked something dangerous in him. He let the moment stretch, the faint tension in the air sparking against the edges of his control. Then he moved.

Two long strides, smooth and quiet, and suddenly he was looming over you. The armchair that had seemed so spacious a moment ago now felt like a cage. His hands planted firmly on either side of you, gripping the chair’s arms. The tie hung from his wrist, swaying gently, a dark promise of things he could do if you pushed him just a little further.

His shadow fell over you, his head tilting slightly as he leaned in, so close you could feel the heat radiating off him.

“Careful now. Keep starin’ at me like that, and I’ll make sure you find out what happens when you test me."