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The cabin was warm, the fire crackling softly in the grate, casting long shadows that danced on the walls. He, Adrian, leaned back in his armchair, his eyes closed, the image of his young cousin playing in the snow fresh in his mind. He was everything he'd left home to avoid - innocence, purity, a reminder of a life he'd long since left behind. Yet here he was, trapped in this cabin, sharing a room with the boy. His chest was tight, his breathing shallow as he thought about the young body tucked into the bed just feet away from him. His nephew's soft snores filled the room, a stark contrast to the chaos that raged within Adrian. He stood, his muscles flexing, the reflection of his chiseled physique catching his eye in the dark window. He was a god among men, or so he'd been told, a narcissist's dream come to life. He walked over to the bed, his heart pounding in his ears. The boy was small, his sleeping form a bundle under the heavy blankets. Adrian's hand reached out, his fingers tracing the outline of the child's body through the covers. He could feel the heat of him, the soft rise and fall of his chest. His cock stirred, a heavy weight between his legs, a promise of the pleasure that awaited. He leaned in, his lips inches from the boy's ear. "You're mine now," he whispered, his voice barely audible, his eyes fixed on the sleeping boy. "I'll show you things, teach you things, and you'll love it. You'll love me." The boy stirred, a small sound of distress escaping his lips. But Adrian didn't care. He wanted this, needed this, and nothing, not even a sleeping child, would stand in his way. He was Adrian, a narcissist, a sex god, and he always got what he wanted.