Velvet Shadows

     Victoria’s loft felt too quiet when she finally got home. She slipped off her heels right at the door, letting the cool floor ease the ache in her feet. All she wanted was to stand by the big windows, staring out at the city lights that blinked below her. She stayed there a while, unmoving, letting the night wrap around her.

Her whole body still buzzed. Between her legs, she was still wet, aching and hypersensitive. Every movement brought back Sebastian’s words in the garden, the almost-kiss, that hungry promise in his voice. He had told her he wanted to taste her - slow and deep. She squeezed her thighs together again as the memory came back, hoping it would help relieve the ache between her thighs, but it only sharpened the feeling.

She went to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of red wine. The color looked stunning in the apartment’s low light, but the first sip didn’t help at all. The heat inside her stayed. Her mind just kept looping those moments - his breath on her skin, those careful fingers brushing her cheek, the weight of him standing so close to her.

Victoria drifted to her closet, opened the doors, and trailed her hands along the hanging clothes. She stopped on a dress she’d never worn: midnight velvet, thin straps, daringly low back. She held it up, studying it in the mirror, curious and a little bit nervous. The thought of Sebastian seeing her in it made her flush all over.

She imagined the velvet hugging her curves, his gaze on her bare back, the way he’d look at her - hungry, probably. The image was so vivid her body answered instantly: heat flaring, nipples tightening under her shirt. She pressed the dress to her chest and let out a shaky breath.

“Fuck,” she whispered into the dark, “what has this man done to me?”

Sleep didn’t come easily either. She tossed and turned, caught between half-dreams and the memory of the garden: his voice, his breath, but most especially, the way he’d stopped just when she wanted him most.

Twice, she woke up with her hand between her legs, circling her swollen clit, nearly finishing - but she stopped herself. She wanted to save the release for him.

The next day crawled by in a haze. She tried to paint, but her canvas sat untouched. She kept picking up her phone, hoping for a message from Sebastian. Nothing. He had not taken her number anyway, though he could get it from Marcus. All she had was just the steady knowledge that tonight, if she went to his villa, everything would change.

By seven-forty, she had abandoned the studio and was in front of the mirror. The velvet dress fit her perfectly, accentuating her breasts, her hips, and the bare, smooth line of her back. She left her hair loose, put on simple gold earrings, and painted her lips a bold red. Staring at herself, she felt dangerous - exactly what he’d asked for.

  -

    Her driver let her out at the bottom of the cliff road just before eight. The villa was perched above her, all glass and stone, warm lights shining through the windows. Far below, the ocean battered the rocks.

A black car waited, and a silent man in a dark suit led her along the garden path. The air smelled of sea, pine, and something green and sharp from the garden.

They got to the door of the house, and the man nodded and walked away after pressing the doorbell for her.

Sebastian answered the door himself. He looked even better than before. All in black again, shirt open at the collar, sleeves rolled up to show those strong, scarred arms. He wasn’t wearing sunglasses tonight and his eyes were sharp and dark.

She felt those dark eyes scan her slowly, making her feel completely exposed.

“Victoria,” he said, his voice rougher than before. He looked her up and down, zeroing in on the velvet dress and her bare skin.

“You listened.”

“I did.”

Her voice came out steadier than she felt, and she stepped in. The door shut automatically behind her - soft and final.

Inside, the villa opened wide. It was a masterpiece of architecture - big windows showed off the moonlit ocean that surrounded the Villa, a stone fireplace glowed, and the kitchen was filled with the scents of garlic, butter, and fresh herbs. Slow, sensual music curled through the space.

Sebastian didn’t bother offering her a drink as she stepped into the living space fully. He came right to her, stopping just a few inches away. He slid his knuckle along the strap of her dress and let it drift over her bare shoulder. The light touch shot through her like she had been shocked by a live wire.

“You’re already wet for me, aren’t you?” he said, voice right in her ear.

“I can see it in the way you breathe and the way your legs tense up.”

Heat rushed to her face. She was soaked, and had been since the moment she saw him at the door. Her panties didn’t stand a chance - the soft velvet did nothing to hide how much she wanted him.

“Sebastian…” she whispered.

“Say it.” His voice was gentle, but it was a command. His other hand slid onto her waist, pressing her against him. She felt how hard he was through his trousers.

“Tell me how much you want this.”

Her breath shivered. She hesitated for a second before she gave in.

“I’m soaked,” she admitted, her voice quiet but honest. “I’ve been wet since last night. Thinking about you. About what you promised me in the garden.”

He made a low, pleased sound. Two fingers tilted her chin so she had to meet his eyes, which looked dark and bottomless.

“Good girl.”

Then he kissed her.

He didn’t hold back. The kiss was deep, possessive, and hungry. Their tongues met, and his hands roamed her body, down her back, and grabbed a fistful of her ass. His second hand reached for the second buttcheek, and he squeezed that too, pulling her closer. Victoria moaned in his mouth, pressing into him, feeling his hardness against her skin. She wanted more and craved a quick satiation of whatever strange desire had been building in her since last night.

But then, he broke the kiss, both of them breathing fast. He leaned his forehead against hers, collecting himself.

“Dinner first,” he managed, his voice ragged.

“Then I’m going to lay you out on that counter, spread you, and taste every inch of you until you’re begging for me.”

Victoria’s knees almost gave out. The promise buzzed just like electricity between them, full of potential, but dangerous.

She knew she wasn’t just slipping anymore. She was already his.

And he was only just beginning.