The moment she exhales, he moves. Slow at first. Deep. Dragging every inch of himself out before sinking back in, groaning at how she clenches around him, how she takes him so well. She grips his shoulders, tilting her hips just enough to change the angle, making him curse under his breath as he sinks deeper. “Just like that,” she whispers, her voice thick with pleasure. His pace quickens, hips rolling against hers, grinding in just the way she loves. The bed creaks beneath them, the headboard knocking lightly against the wall. But it’s her voice that fills the space. The soft moans. The sharp gasps when he thrusts just right. The broken sound of his name when she starts to fall apart again. She tugs him down, lips brushing his ear, her breath hot against his skin. “Don’t stop.”

Her thighs tightened around his waist as he carried her effortlessly to the counter, her breath hitching when his lips found the sensitive curve of her neck. “Malik,” she whispered, her voice trembling with need as his hands explored her, fingers tracing her waist beads like they were a treasure map. His mouth moved lower, tasting the honeyed heat of her skin, her scent—incense and desire—wrapping around him, making him ache for more. When she tilted her head back, her dreads spilling over her shoulders, he couldn’t hold back. “You’re perfect,” he murmured, his voice thick, as she gasped, her body arching into his touch, her every movement begging him to take her further.

Her scent—incense and honeysuckle—wrapped around me, heady and warm. Her legs rested in my lap, her waist beads shifting with every breath, catching the candlelight. She smiled, lips berry-stained from wine, as her foot grazed higher, teasing. “You’re distracted,” she murmured. God, I was.

Aaliyah’s pulse quickened as she searched Ava’s expression for answers. “What are you saying?” “I’m offering you a chance to run this house,” Ava said simply, leaning forward. “Amor Voluptatis. I’ve built this place, but I need someone with fire and vision to carry it forward.” Malik, silent until now, shifted in his seat. “And what about me?” Ava turned to him, her lips curving into a faint smirk. “The fact that we touch you should be all the reward you ever need.” Her voice dropped, sharp and cutting. “Or would you like me to take that away?”

Aaliyah’s confidence radiated as she pressed Malik back against the bed, her fingers tracing slow, deliberate paths along his chest. He shivered beneath her touch, his muscles taut, his breath hitching with every teasing stroke. Behind her, Ava’s voice was a soft murmur, guiding and encouraging. “Good. Let him feel it. Let him crave it.” Aaliyah’s smile was sharp as she leaned down, her lips brushing against Malik’s ear. “You belong to me tonight,” she whispered, her tone a blend of authority and promise. “Yes, ma’am,” Malik gasped, his voice trembling with need. Ava stepped closer, her fingertips grazing Aaliyah’s shoulder as she whispered, “Now, take it further. Test his limits. Make him remember you.” Aaliyah’s eyes gleamed as she turned back to Malik, her voice low and commanding. “Do you trust me?” “Yes,” he breathed, his body already surrendering. Her smile deepened as she settled over him, her movements slow, deliberate. “Good. Then let’s begin.”

Malik cleared his throat. “Aaliyah, Ava and I...worked together once. She’s an old acquaintance.” “Acquaintance?” Ava’s smile turned sharper, her gaze flicking back to him. “Is that what we’re calling it now?” Aaliyah’s eyes darted between them, picking up on the subtle undercurrent of their exchange. “Well,” Ava said, stepping back, her tone lightening. “I’ll leave you two to enjoy yourselves. But if you ever need...guidance, feel free to find me.” Her parting glance lingered on Malik, a silent promise etched in her eyes before she disappeared into the shadows of the room.

The binds were gone. The silk blindfold rested on the nightstand, the leather cuffs unbuckled and set aside. But the weight of what had passed between us lingered, heavier than any restraint could have been. Ava lay against me now, skin pressed to skin, her body no longer commanding—just present. Bare. Open. Real. Her fingertips traced slow, gentle circles along my wrist where the binds had once held firm. No longer testing. Just…soothing. And when she whispered, “You were perfect for me tonight,” it wasn’t praise. It was a promise. That this—what we shared—was deeper than submission. It was trust. And in that quiet, candlelit space, I knew I had never been more hers.

I kiss her there—soft at first, teasing, tasting, savoring every inch of her as if she’s something sacred. The scent of her arousal is intoxicating, sweet and warm, filling my lungs as I press closer. She trembles beneath me, her thighs parting wider, the sound of her breath catching—soft, broken, desperate. And when my tongue finally meets her, circling, stroking, pressing deeper—her gasp is everything. I stay there, worshiping her with every flick, every stroke, until her body arches, tightening around my mouth, her release flooding over me as I hold her closer...not stopping until she’s trembling, breathless, mine

My turn," she whispered, pressing Malik’s wrists into the sheets, her body draped over his, heat against heat. His breath hitched, muscles flexing beneath her, but he let her take control—surrendering as she kissed her way down his chest, slow and deliberate. "Do you trust me?" she whispered, lips just brushing the sensitive skin below his navel. His voice was rough, strained. "Yes." And when she finally took him in her mouth, teasing, tasting, holding him there as his body arched beneath her—she felt the power of his trust, and she gave him everything in return.

The blindfold stayed firm, keeping her world in darkness. But she could feel everything. The silk binding her wrists, snug yet careful. The cool trail of the feather, teasing along her stomach, barely there but leaving heat in its wake. Then, the sharp contrast. A gentle slap of leather against her thigh. Not harsh—just enough to make her gasp, the sting blooming into warmth. And then his lips—soft, soothing, pressing into the same spot he’d struck, his tongue tasting the heat he left behind. "Good girl," Malik whispered against her skin. "You feel that? The way your body responds... so perfect for me."*