He watched her dip two fingers into the bowl of melted chocolate like it was holy. The thick, glossy syrup clung to her skin, dripping in slow, lazy trails down the inside of her wrist, over the delicate bones of her hand. She didn’t lick it immediately. No. She simply watched him—waiting, savoring, controlling the moment like she controlled the air between them. He sat frozen on the bed, cock hard and aching, muscles tense with restraint. Already hers, even without a si

They had already ruined each other once tonight. Aleksandra sprawled across the tangled sheets, body shining under the low amber light of the hotel room. Her skin was marked with kisses, bites, licks—the aftermath of worship so intense it left them both breathless and shaking. Crème brûlée still sat half-eaten on the nightstand. He knelt beside her, tracing the curve of her thigh with the back of a silver spoon dipped in melted caramel.

It was raining—hard, messy, cinematic. Thick drops cascaded down the windshield in rivulets, the wipers beating like a frantic heart. The air smelled of wet pavement, summer thunder, and anticipation. He pulled the car over behind the old theater, the glossy black curves of his restored 1956 BMW 507 gleaming beneath the streetlight. The retro chrome, the whitewall tires, the deep purr of the engine—everything had been planned to perfection. Except the weather. But Aleksan

The room was dim—amber light flickering from candles, shadows stretching long across silk sheets. I was the centerpiece of this quiet, dangerous altar: soft skin against cool linen, my breath already caught somewhere between want and surrender. The man behind me - solid heat, taller, broader. His presence wraps around me like a promise. He kisses the side of my neck, hands slowly tracing down my ribs, to my hips. “You’re going to take everything we give you tonight,” he mu

“This one,” she said, pulling a hardbound novel from the shelf and handing it to him. “Read it. Aloud.” He opened it with unsteady hands. She was already turned away, scanning the lower shelves. Then, deliberately, she bent down to retrieve another book. The dress lifted. No panties. He stared—frozen. Her bare ass perfectly curved, her pussy glistening between her thighs.

The boutique was mostly empty—just the faint sound of soft ambient music, a polite salesgirl folding lingerie near the counter, and Aleksandra with her usual grace and quiet command of the air around her. He hadn’t planned to follow her in. He hadn’t planned anything. But when Aleksandra walked past him on the sidewalk, hips swaying, eyes half-lidded like she was hiding a thousand secrets, something inside him pulled. So he followed. Just a few steps behind. Curious. Maybe a

She undressed slowly, letting the sound of silk sliding over skin tease him. Her heels stayed on. “Lie down,” she said. He obeyed. She straddled him, bare and wet, her pussy hovering just above his face. He groaned when he felt the wetness of her. He wanted to lick her. But she didn’t let him in. Not yet. She ran her nails down his chest. Reached for his cock and ran her nails on the length of his shaft. She lowered her body to his mouth and allowed his tongue to reach her p

The room was lit only by flickering candlelight—soft gold dancing across the dark walls, shadows moving like whispers. The air was warm, heavy with the scent of vanilla wax and something deeper… something wet. Aleksandra sat on the edge of the chaise, knees parted, a long white candle in her hand. The flame flickered as she tilted it slightly, letting a trail of molten wax collect at the edge.

His hand moved before his logic could argue. He unzipped his pants slowly, heart pounding, and reached inside. The moment his fingers wrapped around his...

She slid the robe from her shoulders and let it pool on the floor. She slid the robe from her shoulders and let it pool on the floor. The velvet ribbon in the box was deep burgundy—soft, rich, heavy. It spilled into her hands like wine. She brought it to her mouth, kissed it softly. It smelled like rosewood and darkness. Her nipples tightened from the mere touch of it against her skin. Beneath the ribbon… a silk eye mask. Her breath caught. No instructions. But she didn’t nee

The sound of the lock clicking in the front door made her freeze. He was home. She didn’t shift. Didn’t fix her hair. She only crossed her legs—slowly—letting the slit in her dress fall open just enough to reveal the glossy inside of her thigh. Her fingers still glistened. He walked in, jacket still on, keys half-raised. Then stopped. Silence. Aleksandra turned her head toward him. Gaze locked. And smiled. "You're late."

The elevator doors opened with a soft ding. She stepped in slowly—too slowly. Every click of her heels on the marble floor sounded like a countdown. Her scent reached him before her eyes did—sweet, floral, dangerous. Like something expensive you shouldn’t touch without permission. He was already inside. Leaning against the mirrored wall, scrolling his phone like he was bored. But the moment she entered, he stilled. She didn’t speak. Didn’t smile. Just stood there with her bac

She just dipped her finger—delicate, slow—into the delicate chocolate mousse, circled it lazily, and brought it to her mouth. She sucked it between her lips, slow and obscene, like the restaurant didn’t exist. Like he didn’t exist. But he did. And his breath was getting shorter by the minute. He was talking—about something unimportant. Business. Wine. Whatever it was, his voice cracked on the edges, the words trailing off every time she shifted. He laughed too often. Too l

Jack swirled Aleks around and grabbed her. Her eyes went wild while he held her face between his palms and slanted her mouth over her...