They passed through velvet curtains into a private corridor lit by wavering light fixture. Every step he took was slow, and she followed her without asking much questions.
“You’re quiet,” he said, voice deep and silken. “I’m watching you.” His head tilted slightly. “You like control.” “Sometimes.” “I’ll ask once. Do you want this?” Nina’s lips separated. Her body stopped, breath catching in her throat. Her thoughts tangled in heat and curiosity and something more dangerous. Her thoughts went back to her dream, she needed to say that word "Don't stop..." to someone who would bury his head to eat her pussy. She wanted dominance. She nodded. “I need to hear it,” he said firmly. “I want this,” she breathed. Her fingers brushed over her phone screen on the sink. She tapped her “Midnight Mood” playlist and let the sound of R&B music fill the bathroom as she danced to the music slowly. She stepped into the shower, still dancing. The water was warm as it rushed down her back. It soaked her hair, dripped all over her breasts, and went down slowly on her stomach. Her eyes closed as she moved her face up to face the water as it ran down her face letting the vapour cover around her skin. The dream came back in perfectly in her mind, his mouth, the desire, the pain between her thighs. Her hand moved to her chest, her fingers feed over the nipples which was already firm from the memory. She moaned softly as her lips hummed slowly on the music. Her other hand moved lower. She didn’t rush. She just let herself feel the contrast of hot water on her skin, the way her fingers danced slowly in familiar places. They moved into her opening slowly as she throbs. Her breath deepened, her hips shifting slightly against the tiled wall as her imagination ran wild. She let herself feel everything. No guilt. No rush. Just the warm slide of her own touch. She imagined his mouth again, his tongue, the way traced every part of her body like he knew her. Her fingers moved in slow, intentional circles, making fun of it and building desires as her breath quickened. The music vibrated in her ears as her body trembled and pleasure filled her body. She was almost there... Buzz. Buzz. The vibration of her phone on the sink made her come back to reality immediately. She blinked, gasping briefly as she tried to stand in a place. The moment had being stopped by the buzz and she can't abandon it. Covered in water vapour, she turned the shower off and stepped out of it. She wiped off her wet body with a towel slowly as she still felt the slow throb of fluids under her skin. Her body hummed. She didn’t feel embarrassed, not anymore. She felt... awakened. She picked up her phone, wiping at the screen. One new message. Zee: “Don’t be late tonight, Nina. This isn’t just some party. It’s a door. You ready to open it?” Nina stared at the words for a long second. Her heart fluttered. Elise always had a way of saying too much with too little. She tapped out a reply with damp fingers: “I’m already halfway through it.” She threw the phone on the bed as she turned from the window. The black dress was on the back of her chair, untouched since the wedding that didn't take place later on. She put it on. The fabric was soft, clinging to her curves and the neckline was low, her back bare to the waist. She moved to her dresser and picked up the lace mask as her fingers was steady now, she put it behind her head and tied it comfortably. In the mirror, a new woman looked back. Still Nina… but sharper, her, braver. She saw a woman who was no longer content to wait. Not for love. Not for permission. Not for life to magically fix itself. She held it to her face, looking into the mirror. The city outside her window glittered through the glass as she grabbed her purse, put on her heels, and walked to the door. Tonight, the mask wasn’t just a disguise. It was permission. Nina wouldn’t be the woman left behind. She wouldn’t be the one who cried quietly while others laughed. She wouldn’t be the second choice, the afterthought, the fallback plan. Tonight, she would be an unknown and maybe, just maybe, someone out there would be waiting for her, unknown. She walked into the night, into the rain, into the streets and somewhere deep inside, the dream came back again. The music beat with vibration and the moment Nina walked into the ballroom, the world outside disappeared. Her black mask was stick to her face, hiding every trace of doubt. A soft golden glow flashed across chandeliers as shadows danced over silk gowns and sharp suits. Every guest was faceless, mysterious, dangerous. This wasn’t just a party, it was a secret world where reality put on hold and people gave in to their desires. “Zee?” Nina whispered as her eyes scanned through masked strangers, laughter and hints of skin under the opening of sexy fabric. A gloved hand touched her bare shoulder from behind. She turned sharply. “Easy,” came Zee’s familiar voice. Her mask was gold and laced with crimson feathers. “You made it.” “Barely,” Nina murmured, her pulse already quickening. “This place feels... unreal.” Zee leaned in. “That’s the point. There are no real names here. No pasts. No futures. Just desire.” She winked. “I see someone watching you.” Nina frowned her face. “What do you mean by that?” Zee smiled heavily showing off a curly lip. “Don’t look yet. He’s been staring since you walked in. Tall, black suit. All mask, no mercy. And when he moves, it’s like he owns the night.” Nina swallowed. Her skin tingled. “I told him you were curious,” Zee added. “What?” “I may have also told him you were... available.” “Zee!” “He asked for one thing, and that's your consent. And now, I’m telling you: Go with him. Trust me. You want this.” Before Nina could respond, the crowd seemed to shift, parting like water. And there he was. He appeared like a shadow carved from desire. Tall, over six feet, with a body that can make ladies come. Broad shoulders were perfectly fit into the fabric of his black tailored suit, every inch of it cling on his body with intention. He moved like a predator that's not in a hurry but with the calm sureness of a man who had never once been denied anything he wanted. His presence was attractive and the room seemed to revolve around him. His chest was solid beneath the open collar of his shirt, which showed a sliver of smooth skin which was just enough to tease. The cut of his suit showed every inch of power: the way his waist wasn't wide, how his arms filled out the sleeves, the quiet strength in the way he positions himself. He didn’t try to appear dominant. He simply was. But it was his face or what little could be seen of it that truly got her attention. A black mask covered most of his features, smooth and pointed as it hugged the top half of his face, revealing only a chiseled jawline with some hairs on his face which made him sharp and masculine, with just enough roughness to make a lady cry of desire. His lips were full, firm, and unsmiling with the kind of mouth that could give orders or make promises that ruined you. And his eyes… even behind the mask, they were the most dangerous part of him. Dark, calculating, and continuously focused. They didn’t just look at Nina, they learned her, ate her, took her away in the most intimate way without a single touch. There was no friendliness in them, not at first. Just heat. A dark, simmering hunger that said I want you and I will have you. His hands covered in black leather gloves were large and elegant. Hands made for control. For silence. For pleasure and punishment. He wore no perfume that Nina could place, but there was a scent that lingered around him: warm spice and something smoky like expensive whiskey mixed with rain-soaked earth and the heat of a storm. It wasn’t overpowering. It was skillfull… and habit forming. He spoke in low, intentional tones. His voice had the texture of dark velvet, deep and smooth, curling around every word they spoke to each other. He didn’t need to shout for it. He didn’t need to beg. His body, his eyes, and his quietness all did the talking. There was a story in the way he held himself high, something dangerous that had nothing to do with extreme force and everything to do with control. He had tasted power before, and from the way he stood, it was clear he expected to be obeyed. He was not the kind of man you met. He was the kind you surrendered to. And Nina... she already knew, somewhere deep in her skin and bones, that this man...this stranger named X would be the start of her undoing. His presence was impossible to ignore. He was too still in a room full of movement. Too calm in a sea of chaos. When he stepped forward, it was slow and deliberate, powerful. He extended a gloved hand. “Come.” Nina looked at Zee. Her friend smiled and whispered, “No names. No limits. No questions. Remember?” Nina turned back to the man. She took his hand. He said only three words as he led her away. “Call me X.”“Again,” Julian said firmly, his deep voice carrying no room for excuses. “Solve it. You have thirty seconds.”Olivia swallowed hard, her palms sweaty against the notebook. She bent over the question, her brain racing, her heart thudding. The way he sat across from her, hands folded, waiting for her to either fail or succeed, made her feel like she was under a spotlight.“Twenty seconds,” Julian’s voice cut through her silence, making her hands tremble.Her pencil scratched furiously on the page. She thought she had the answer, but the way he stared: calm, unblinking, controlled, made her second-guess herself.“Five… four… three…”“Wait...wait, I got it!” Olivia said quickly, blurting out her answer, almost shouting.Julian leaned forward, glanced at the paper, then raised an eyebrow. “Close. But not correct. You rushed.”Her shoulders slumped, and she pressed her lips together in frustration. “You keep rushing me with the time! I can’t think straight when you’re counting down like th
“You feel intimidated by me.”Olivia’s eyes widened. She wanted to deny it, but the words caught in her throat. Instead, she whispered, “Yes.”Julian let the silence hang for a moment before replying. “Good.”Her heart thudded painfully in her chest. “Good?”“Yes.” He straightened, his tall frame casting a shadow across her notebook. “That fear you feel, it means you’re paying attention. It means you’re taking this seriously and that’s exactly what you need.”Olivia frowned, her brows furrowing. “I don’t understand…”Julian tapped the notebook with his pen, his eyes still locked on hers. “You need structure, Olivia. Rules. Discipline. Without them, you wander. You procrastinate. You look for excuses. But with them, you thrive. You don’t even realize it yet, but that’s why you’re improving...because I don’t let you drift.”His words sank deep, pressing against the insecurities she carried every day. He was right. She knew he was right. Before him, her nights were endless loops of distr
He pulled out a chair for her. “Sit. Let’s see how much you actually remember.”She slid into the chair, her pulse quickening as he pulled a sheet of questions in front of her. He tapped his watch. “You have ten minutes to solve the first one. Don’t waste time staring at it. Think, write, answer.”His words were commands, not suggestions. Olivia swallowed and bent over the paper. Her pen moved furiously, numbers and formulas racing through her head. She could feel his eyes on her, watching, waiting.At the end of the ten minutes, she put her pen down and slid the sheet back.Julian leaned over, scanning her work. His hand rested against the table as he pointed at a mistake she hadn’t noticed. Olivia’s eyes followed the movement of his long fingers as he traced the error. The veins along his hand were sharp, his skin tanned against the white page. She quickly looked back down at her notes, her face heating up.“This step,” he said, tapping the paper firmly, “is sloppy. You knew what to
Olivia crossed her arms, pouting like a scolded child. His words stung, but deep down, she knew he was right.The evening went on like that, strict timing, firm scolding, no mercy. Every time she tried to complain, Julian shut her down with a sharp look or a curt word. And though it frustrated her, she felt something she hadn’t felt in a long time: discipline.At one point, when she sneaked her phone out of her bag to check a notification, Julian’s voice thundered across the table.“What did I say about phones?”Olivia jumped, nearly dropping it. “I was just...”“Put it away,” he snapped. “Now. If you can’t respect simple rules, you can leave.”Her cheeks burned. She shoved it back in her bag, mumbling, “You don’t have to be so strict.”“Yes, I do,” he said simply. “Because no one else has been strict with you. That’s why you’re still struggling.”His words silenced her. She realized with a sinking feeling that he was right again.By the end of the session, Olivia was drained. Her han
Olivia had never been the type to take studying seriously, not until now. After her last humiliating experience with the test questions Julian threw at her, she realized something had to change. If she wanted to get better, she couldn’t keep treating this like a casual hangout. She needed structure, she needed him.Julian, on the other hand, already knew the way forward. He had been patient with her clumsy beginnings, but he was not going to waste his time if she wasn’t ready to put in the work. At thirty-five, he wasn’t some carefree young man running around with excuses. He had built his life on order, self-control, and discipline, and he expected the same from anyone who came under his watch, even Olivia.The next day, when Olivia showed up for their usual session in the small study room at the back of the library, she wrinkled her nose. The fluorescent light flickered like it was about to give up, the chair legs wobbled under her weight, and the air felt trapped with the stale sme
The following week came faster than Olivia expected. All week, she carried the weight of that first tutoring session like a secret in her chest. She replayed his words...“You’ll hate me before you improve.” At the time, she had laughed nervously, but as the days went by, she began to wonder if he had meant it.By the time Thursday afternoon arrived, she felt both eager and sick with nerves. She dragged herself into the same quiet study room in the library, clutching her notebook tighter than usual. Her palms were clammy again, just like last time, and no amount of deep breathing seemed to help.Julian was already there. He sat at the oak table with his sleeves rolled up, a pen in hand, scanning through a thick stack of notes. He looked like he belonged there, like he could sit in silence for hours without ever losing focus. When Olivia entered, he didn’t glance up immediately.“You’re late,” he said calmly, still looking at the paper in front of him.Olivia’s stomach twisted. She chec