Without breaking eye contact, he took her hand in his, lifting it to his lips. The kiss he placed on the back of her hand was deliberate, his lips brushing her skin with a gentleness that belied the storm brewing beneath his composed exterior.

“Much better,” he murmured, his dark eyes burning into hers as he straightened. His hand lingered on hers, a silent assertion of ownership. The world will be mine, he thought, and that includes you, my dear.

Knights of Walpurgis Era
"Pleased to meet you, hope you guess my name."
Sympathy for the Devil -The Rolling Stones

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