Heat On My Skin

“ Yeah… baby “ said Ethan as he held me so tight while my leg was still wrapped tightly on his as our kissing turned intense without minding another person might have just jumped into the restroom and caught us up. His grip was fierce, his hands digging into the tender skin of my thighs. 

The pressure was a mix of thrilling and terrifying, a constant reminder that he was stronger, bigger, and in a way, in control. My body, however, was a weapon I had spent years sharpening. My legs, still tightly wrapped around him, were a trap. A beautiful, deadly trap that was slowly closing in. The sound of our desperate breaths was the only thing I could hear, a frantic, primal rhythm that drowned out the distant music of the gala. Every inch of my skin felt hot, alive, and on the brink of something dangerous.

My breath was ragged as I never knew if the pleasure that I was feeling was real or it was just part of my plan. My mind was a battlefield. A cold, hard voice told me to stay focused, to remember the mission. But a different, more animal part of me was responding to his touch with a heat that was impossible to fake. The anger was a cold, hard stone, but his touch was like gasoline, making the flames of fake lust burn hotter and more convincing. This was not what I had planned for. I had planned to be in control, to feel nothing but the satisfaction of my plan working. But this… this was a whole other game.

I rushed towards his suit as I pulled it out of his shoulder letting it slide down a little bit. It was a slow, deliberate act of undressing him, a silent invitation I had carefully rehearsed. My fingers, surprisingly steady, moved to the buttons of his shirt. I undid each one with a slow, careful touch, my nails brushing his hard, warm skin. This was an act of intimacy, a performance of desperate desire. But as my fingers moved, my mind raced, taking me back to the start of this night, to the cold, calculated steps I had taken to get here.

I leaned in close, my lips brushing his ear as I whispered, "I want you right here handsome." The words were a promise, a lie that tasted like victory. The moment I said them, a sudden remembrance, sharp and clear, flashed through my mind.

It was just a few hours ago, and I was standing on the balcony of the event hall, a ghost in my own life.

"Is that set already?" I asked from the tiny microphone I had on my ear. My hair covered it well. I leaned against the cold railing, staring down at the lights and the rich people who looked like they had no problems in the world. I could barely hear the music inside. It was all laughter and clinking glasses. Fake happiness.

Emily’s voice came through the mic clearly. "Done, Aria. Ethan has drunk the wine," she said with a soft giggle. She sounded so proud.

I didn’t smile. I waited. My hand trembled a little, so I lit another cigarette. That was the second one in five minutes. The first one didn’t calm me. The second might not either, but I puffed anyway. My red lipstick stained the end of it. I stared straight ahead, watching the city lights glow in the distance. Everything looked peaceful from up here. But not inside me.

"Good," I muttered, smoke leaving my lips in slow curls. My voice was cold. I was shaking on the inside, but outside I looked calm. My heart was banging like a drum in my chest, but my eyes were steady. I was trained for this moment. This was it. Tonight was the start of everything I’d worked for.

My red gown hugged my body tight like it was painted on. The fabric shimmered like blood under the golden balcony lights. One long slit showed my thigh, smooth and firm. I’d picked this dress for a reason. I wanted to be remembered. I wanted him to see me and never forget.

"Are you okay?" Emily asked in my ear.

"I’m fine," I whispered.

"Are you sure? You’re breathing hard."

"I said I’m fine," I snapped, but not too loud. She went silent.

I dropped the second cigarette, crushed it under my heel, and took a deep breath.

Ethan Malcovich. The name burned in my mind like a brand. I had waited years to get this close. I trained myself. Changed everything about me. My voice. My hair. My name. Even the way I walked. He was the son of the man who destroyed my family. He was the face of the empire that stole my father’s legacy. And tonight, he was going to meet me.

I had watched him from afar, studied everything about him. How he walked like the world belonged to him. How his voice stayed calm even when he was angry. He wasn’t just a man. He was an image. A powerful one. Charming. Handsome. Everyone loved him. Everyone wanted a piece of him. But I didn’t want him. I wanted revenge.

The gala below was still going strong. People in tuxedos and expensive dresses laughed and danced. I spotted Ethan moving through the crowd. Tall. Broad shoulders. Perfect tux. His dark hair was messy like he didn’t even care how he looked, but somehow that made him more attractive. He had that easy smile that could melt glass. His jaw was sharp, his lips full. Even from here, I could tell he smelled good. He always did in the pictures. That was the problem. He didn’t just look good. He looked... real. I hated that. I hated that the enemy could look like that. But I couldn’t get distracted. Not tonight.

I saw him touch a waiter’s arm. Whisper something. Then he turned and walked towards the hallway. "He’s going in," I whispered to Emily, and I was already moving.

My heels clicked as I entered through the back door of the event hall. I walked down the corridor towards the restroom. Once I was alone, I paused. I opened my clutch and took out the perfume bottle. A tiny glass one, shaped like a diamond. Expensive as hell. I sprayed it on my neck, my chest, and both wrists. The scent was sweet but strong. The kind of smell that stayed in your nose for days. I wanted him to remember it.

I pushed open the restroom door and stepped inside. It was quiet. Marble sinks. Gold-framed mirrors. I moved to the mirror and leaned slightly against the sink. I fixed a strand of hair, and checked my lipstick. Everything looked perfect. Then I waited. I could hear soft movements behind the stalls. Then I heard the stall door open. And I saw him. Ethan Malcovich.

He stepped out, adjusting his tie with one hand. His head was bent, and his eyes were focused on the knot. He didn’t notice me right away. But then he stopped. I watched him from the mirror. As his eyes lifted. They went from my shoes... To my legs... To my hips... To my chest... And finally, to my face. He stared, and he blinked. It wasn't once but twice. He looked like he wasn’t sure if I was real.

“Hello, lady,” he said finally. His voice was low and smooth, like silk sliding over skin. He smiled a little. That lazy kind of smile that told me he wasn’t shy, not even in here.

I turned slowly to face him. I tilted my head like I was surprised. I'm a little shy. I shifted my weight so my hip stuck out just enough. I let my leg show a little more through the slit. “Hello, handsome,” I said with a soft voice that I didn't even recognize.

He stepped closer. “You smell good, princess,” he said, as his breath brushed against my cheek. That sentence. Those exact words. I had imagined them a hundred times. Because I had paid thousands to wear that perfume just to make him say it. Just to get his attention. I smiled a little. Not too much. “Thank you, handsome.”

My focus snapped back to the present, to the intense heat of his body pressed against mine. The memory of my careful planning was a cold shot of adrenaline. I was in control. This was my moment. The rage, so carefully hidden, now burned with a white-hot intensity.

I could feel my clit getting wet already, I need him now at least I can't be aroused and I will just leave like that. The thought, so raw and honest, shocked me. It was a feeling of pure, unapologetic desire, a physical response that had nothing to do with my plan. It was just a body reacting to another body, and the anger I felt at my own response was a fire of its own.

Ethan's voice came out fast as he said “ you know how to get me pretty lady…” he said as he dragged his breath so long as he dragged my red gown up as I seated comfortably on the porcelain and everything was exposing because I had no pants on. My thighs were now fully bare, a vulnerability I had to embrace. My body, a weapon, was on full display. I'm on a mission. The cold air of the restroom bit at my nakedness for a second before his hands, hot and demanding, found their way to me.

Immediately Ethan slid his finger inside my pussy and plunged his fingers there as I grabbed him. A loud, shocked gasp escaped my lips. My face contoured with pleasure as I bit his shirt. The sudden, intense sensation was a jolt of real feeling. It was a mix of pleasure and victory, a confirmation that he was in my hands. The sounds I made, the low moans and gasps, were a mix of genuine sensation and the performance of my life.

“ Oh… my god…. Fuck” I said 

But he responded immediately” you're wet babe “ he said. The words were a triumph for him, a confirmation of his power. 

But for me, they were a reminder of how deep I had to go, how far I had to fall, to get my revenge. I moaned while my head was kept on his chest while my hands found his Cock but his trousers were blocking me from feeling it. I unlocked his belt and with him being fast, he helped pull his trousers a little bit down.

 And with that his cock was out, what a massive cock sticking out veins he has. The sight of it, thick and veined, was a brutal reminder of his raw, animal power. I moaned as Ethan rubbed my clit and I rubbed his cock gently.

"God… fuck pretty…. Stroke fast “ said Ethan as his tongue found my ears as it plunged deep.