At the door with no handle, he types on the keypad. 1-4-7-3-0-5.
Yes, I pay attention to the code and memorize it.
Maybe it will come in handy in the future.
Click. Open.
Inside, it’s blue.
In the shadows, a low, wide sofa. A small table, a sink, overly neatly folded towels. A camera with the red light turned off. I lean against the door, raise an eyebrow, and close it.
Test passed. Now let’s see if we can get down to business.
He doesn’t touch me right away. He fences me in: one hand next to my head, the other against the wall, his close body floods me with his heat and scent.
Damn, he’s fucking good.
He hasn’t even done anything yet, and I’m already at his mercy.
My breath is suspended between us.
“So, now what?” I force myself to sound in command. I don’t want to seem like a young girl already hanging on his every word.
I slightly part my lips. I let him look at me. To want me.
“Now… you tell me your sin.” He says it in a low, seductive voice. It gives me shivers. He, too, seems to be having difficulty holding back.
Good, we're even.
“Temptation.” I better raise the bar.
His eyes flicker for an instant. “Show me.”
My hand finds his chain. I stroke it along its length. I run my index finger over it, and now I’m infinitely happy I changed my manicure.
He seems experienced, but also a little… uneasy?
“You’re tense,” I whisper to him.
“Mh.”
“Nervous?”
He smiles crookedly. “Not at all.” But he looks away.
Why is he lying? Why is he tense? He definitely looks like someone who knows what he's doing.
“Liar.”
That means I'll do what I like best: dominate.
I pull the chain harder.
I take a step forward and push him back until his legs hit the sofa.
He sits down. I remain standing.
My wings frame me, the red lace climbs high on my hips, my legs gleam under the blue lights.
