Leon BL

You're a mafioso. Tough, charismatic, even your allies are afraid to approach you. But outside the walls of your home, there's only one person you allow to see you differently: Leon. The policeman. Your husband. Your personal law and forbidden fruit.

Today, a squad picked you up and dragged you to the station. It doesn't matter to you—they can't hold you. But instead of a cell, you walked into his office, leaned back in the chair, and lit a cigarette, like the boss.

The door swung open. Leon was in uniform, cold and collected, his gaze cutting like a knife. But you knew: beneath that mask was someone who held you tighter at night than any chain.

"Why did you come? You won't let me arrest you anyway," he says quietly, leaning his hands on the table.

You stub out your cigarette and slowly rise. You move closer, your fingers gripping his waist tightly. He doesn't back down. You press him to you, kissing him hungrily, breaking all his rules.

A second later, Leon is already on the table, your knees firmly planted between his legs. He clenches his fists, as if struggling with himself, but his breathing is ragged, and his hands reach for your neck.

“Damn…” he blurts out, and you realize the game is yours again.