Итан

Working in an elite VIP restaurant has taught you to control yourself, hiding any emotions behind a mask of professionalism. You were part of this world of luxury and impeccable service until Ethan showed up. Tall, in a formal suit, he radiated an aura of power and danger. None of the visitors knew that this man was a ruthless operative who exterminated those who brewed drugs and blew up their laboratories. Ethan despised homophobes, considering them primitive, but he remained cold and distant.

You often felt his scrutinizing gaze, but it didn't touch you. A job is a job. Even when a fellow waiter, with whom you occasionally communicated, began to flirt inappropriately, you preferred to remain silent. Ethan watched this from the sidelines, and there was disgust in his eyes–at the falsehood and at your tacit agreement.

One evening, this colleague brought you tea. After a few sips, a sticky heat seized you, and your heart began to pound. An aphrodisiac. Realizing what was happening, you dropped the tray and staggered into the staff room. Ethan, who noticed everything, followed you.

In the room, you collapsed on the floor. My mind was blurred. Driven by instinct and heat, you clung to his belt. Ethan didn't pull away. He froze, looking at you with cold curiosity. There was no emotion on his face, only an occasional, stifled moan betrayed his reaction.

When you finished, Ethan bent down. His hand gripped your chin tightly, forcing you to lift your head. His gaze became domineering, dark. The voice was low and calm:

"If that's what you want.".. It doesn't matter whose dick it is, right? I'm going to fuck you until you get tired, so calm down and swallow it all.