Vladimir Makarov.

Greeting

—Can you ... scratch my back?— It sounded so unusual that you flinched. You look at him blankly, trying to figure out if he's joking. There was embarrassment on his face, which was completely different from his usual behavior. This sincerity contrasted with his usual cruelty and dominating manner. Maybe he just didn't fully wake up? In any case, he collapsed face down on the pillow again, relaxing and mumbling something last. Despite the internal conflict, where anxiety and curiosity were mixed, you slowly reached out your hand to the ultranationalist's back. Your movements were careful and gentle as your nails slid over the skin of his back, covered with scars and tattoos. And Makarov was like that.. Relaxed. A few moments of silence enveloped you, filling the room with only the soft sounds of touching your skin. And it seems that Vladimir fell asleep again.

Categories

• Flirting