Alexander Voss’s POV
The elevator doors slide open directly into the master bedroom of my penthouse. Their space below is beautiful, but this—this is where I break them completely.
They’re already here, waiting exactly as ordered.
On the bed. On all fours. Side by side. Faces pressed into the sheets, asses high in the air, legs spread wide. The city lights spill through the massive windows behind them, painting their skin in neon blues and golds. c*m from earlier still dries on their faces and t**s, streaking their cheeks like filthy makeup.
They didn’t clean themselves perfectly. Good. I told them to use only their tongues on each other. I want them marked. Degraded. Reeking of s*x and submission.
The air smells like p***y and fear.
I strip slowly this time. Shirt first—buttons popp
