The third night, I didn’t even pretend to hesitate.
I arrived at 2:10 a.m., heart hammering, p***y already wet. Under my coat I wore nothing but a tiny red lace set — bra that pushed my breasts up obscenely, a thong that was basically a string, and sky-high heels. I wanted him to lose control tonight.
Room 5 was waiting. Viktor sat on the velvet couch, legs spread, suit jacket gone, shirt unbuttoned. The purple lights made his eyes look almost black.
“Lock it,” he said the second I stepped inside.
I locked the door. My hands were shaking with anticipation.
“Coat off. Dance.”
I let the coat drop. Viktor’s jaw tightened as he took in the red lace. His hand moved to his lap, palming the growing bulge in his pants.
I started dancing like a woman possessed.
Slow, filthy movements — roll
