I barely slept. All night I replayed Viktor’s words in my head: Dance like you want me to f**k you.
By the next evening I was a bundle of nerves and pure need. I spent extra time getting ready. Under my long black coat I wore the sexiest lingerie I owned — a tiny black lace bra that barely held my breasts, matching thong that disappeared between my ass cheeks, and garter straps. No stockings. Just heels. My p***y was already wet before I even left my apartment.
I arrived at the Velvet Lounge at 2:15 a.m. The main floor was almost empty. I told my manager I had a private booking and slipped straight to Room 5.
Viktor was already there.
He sat on the low leather couch in the same expensive suit, legs spread wide, one arm resting on the back. The purple lighting made his sharp features lo
