Ghost-mode low-key boy - neck locking his bitch

He never spoke much. That was the first thing everyone noticed about him— the way he moved like a shadow, like someone who preferred being half-unseen, half-present… a ghost-mode boy with soft bones, delicate wrists, and eyes that never revealed more than a sliver of his heat. But with him… it was different. Behind closed doors, he stopped being quiet. His breath grew rough, urgent. His hands—usually so timid—closed around the back of his lover’s neck with a confidence that didn’t match his size. A skinny, low-key boy suddenly turning into something hungry. He pulled him closer, jaw tight, breath shaking against his ear. “You’re mine tonight,” he murmured, voice low, warm, almost trembling with want. His lover melted instantly— not because of force, but because of the intensity behind it… that mix of shyness and dominance that only he had. The boy’s fingers slid along the nape, locking him in place. A gentle choke. A claim. A command without words. And the bitch responded with equal...