The chair waited like a throne of sin wide leather seat, high back, sturdy arms perfect for restraint. Elena walked in at 9:30 PM sharp, pulse hammering, carrying the silk tie he'd texted her to bring. Black, expensive, the kind that would bite just right against her wrists.
Damian was already seated, legs spread, c**k half-hard and straining against his tailored pants. The room smelled of his cologne and her anticipation.
City lights painted stripes across his sharp jaw as he crooked a finger.
"Strip. Everything but the heels. Then come here and kneel."
Elena obeyed, blouse sliding off to reveal lace bra, skirt pooling at her feet, panties already drenched and discarded. Naked except for black stilettos, she dropped to her knees between his thighs.
"Good slut," he purred, unzipping
