Chapter 2 : One Thousand Euros

—Now, I’d like to taste you.

His voice was velvet laced with hunger. Allyssa’s breath caught again as he knelt beside her, his presence both commanding and oddly reverent. The cuffs pressed lightly against her wrists when she instinctively shifted.

—You’re trembling, he observed, his eyes scanning every inch of her.

—I… it’s cold, maybe, she replied, her voice uncertain.

—Or maybe it’s not just cold, he said. Maybe it’s anticipation.

He didn’t touch her yet. Not right away. He took his time. Just watching. Studying her the way a collector might examine a one-of-a-kind piece. Slowly, he brought his hand to her thigh. His fingers were warm, careful, unhurried. He ran them along the inside of her leg, brushing lightly without invading.

Allyssa swallowed hard. The restraint made it worse. Or better. She didn’t know anymore.

He finally leaned down, lips barely grazing her skin. A kiss. Then another. Soft, deliberate. He was taking his time with her, as though savoring something rare.

—Do you like that? he asked, his breath hot against her skin.

She hesitated, then nodded.

—Yes… I think I do.

His lips traveled upward. Slow, infuriatingly slow. She arched slightly, just enough to make the cuffs clink against the metal frame. He paused when he reached her navel, letting his tongue trace the curve of her belly.

Allyssa moaned softly.

The sound seemed to stir something in him.

—I want to make you forget everything else, he whispered. One hour. Just this.

He moved between her legs. She gasped at the first touch of his mouth—light, tentative, but soon deeper, bolder. His tongue moved with precision and care, and Allyssa felt the heat rise through her body, curling like smoke. She wasn’t prepared for this—not for how good it would feel, not for how exposed it would make her.

She tugged again at the cuffs, not because she wanted to escape, but because the pleasure was too much to hold still for.

—You taste incredible, he murmured.

A blush bloomed across her chest. She was no longer thinking about the money, or the room, or the second man watching silently from the shadows. Her breath came in shallow bursts now, hips lifting slightly, seeking more.

—Don’t stop, she whispered.

—Not planning to, he replied.

His mouth was relentless now. Expert. She felt herself unraveling, coming apart under his tongue, under the heat, under the sheer audacity of her own desire. She had never let anyone this close before, and now she was handcuffed to a bed in a stranger’s basement—moaning, writhing, burning alive.

And she didn’t want it to end.

When the orgasm hit her, it was fast and full and unexpected. Her back arched violently off the mattress. A sharp cry escaped her lips, raw and honest. She trembled as wave after wave surged through her, too intense to be graceful.

Only when the last tremor passed did he slowly rise, wiping the corner of his mouth with two fingers, his expression dark and unreadable.

—That was beautiful, he said. Thank you.

She closed her eyes for a moment. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected. Shame, maybe. Regret. But all she felt was silence—and the deep, dizzying hum of something she hadn’t known she craved.

Then she heard the second man’s voice for the first time.

—May I?

Allyssa opened her eyes. He was already close, kneeling on the edge of the mattress.

—Do you want to stop? he asked, voice gentle, his hand hovering above her wrist.

She looked at him. Looked at the first man, still watching, shirt slightly undone, like some modern priest who had just witnessed a sacred rite.

Then she nodded.

—No. I want… I want you to touch me.

—Then I will, he said, brushing his knuckles softly against her cheek. But only where you let me.

His hand traced down her throat, over her collarbone, to the center of her chest. The second touch was firmer. She arched into it, her body no longer hesitant but curious. Open.

She wanted to see what else she could feel.