Tonight, I wasn’t just giving him my body.
Tonight, I was giving him everything.
The elevator doors opened to Damien’s penthouse. The air was thick—warm, scented with sandalwood and something darker. The lights were dimmed low, soft jazz humming in the background.
I stepped inside—bare, shivering despite the heat. The door closed behind me like a seal, and I felt the weight of it. This night. This choice.
He was waiting, of course. Standing at the far end of the room in black slacks, barefoot, shirtless, his body carved and still. Like a god of discipline and lust, watching his offering arrive.
I dropped to my knees the second our eyes met.
He didn’t speak. Didn’t move.
Silence stretched.
Then he walked—slow, deliberate steps that echoed in my chest more than the floor.
He circled
