บททั้งหมดของ Flesh And Fire: บทที่ 221 - บทที่ 230

The perfume of the sex club where I work hits me before the dark neon lights do. Sweet and still fucking heavy, like the air itself has been sprayed down with roses to make men think they’re walking into paradise. I swipe my card across the clock-in machine and watch the red numbers glow 9:02 p.m. Right on time. My shift has begun.The mirror by the hall catches me before I can turn away. Lips glossed, eyes lined dark, hair tumbling the way the regulars like it. I blow myself a kiss because why not. If I’m going to sell the fantasy, I may as well enjoy the product.“Ready for the night, sweetheart?” The girl at the desk raises a brow, chewing her gum slowly.“I was born ready, babes,” I grin. My voice carries enough mischief that she laughs, shaking her head.And just like that, I slip into her. The entertainer. The woman who bends, who shifts, who becomes exactly what a man wants to see. I lock my fun, crazy self somewhere behind the glass and let her peek through whenever it make

The taste of the exotic woman's taste is still on my tongue when I splash water over my face. I don’t even bother wiping the smear of lipstick she left on my jaw. Let the next one see it. Let him know I’m warmed up.The knock comes sooner than I expect. No pause. No courtesy. Just the door swinging open and a man stepping in like he owns the air.He’s not polished. Not smooth. Black jeans, leather jacket, tattoos crawling up his throat. Eyes sharp, mean, and hungry. The kind of man who doesn’t need an introduction because his presence says it all.“You,” he growls, pointing at me. “Clothes off. Now.”I laugh, half from nerves, half from excitement. “Not even a hello?”“Shut up and strip.”So I do. My dress puddles at my feet, panties tossed aside, nipples already tight under his stare. He doesn’t smile. Doesn’t soften. He just stalks closer, one hand gripping my throat as he shoves me against the wall.“You’re mine tonight,” he says. “Understand?”“Yes, Sir.”The slap comes fast, shar

Two days. That’s how long it’s been since I clocked out last, and already I’m itching for more. The bruises on my thighs have faded to yellow smudges, the sting gone, but when I catch sight of myself in the mirror tonight, I still see fingerprints that aren’t mine.I swipe gloss across my lips, laugh at my reflection, and blow myself a kiss. “Round two, baby.”The desk girl, Maria, gives me the usual once-over as I check in. “Suite eight tonight. Special booking.”“Special how?”She smirks, popping her gum. “You’ll see.”And I do.When I step into the suite, it isn’t one client waiting—it’s two. A man and a woman, seated together on the velvet couch like a portrait out of a glossy magazine. They’re beautiful, both of them. He’s tall, broad-shouldered, with a watch that probably costs more than my rent. She’s elegant, draped in silk the color of cream, diamonds glittering at her ears.Married, I think instantly. The matching bands confirm it.The wife speaks first. “You must be her.”

Two days. That’s how long it had been since he’d fucked me into the mattress and whispered those two words that won’t stop echoing in my skull.You’re mine.I tried to shake it off. God knows I tried. I laughed it out with friends, tossed back shots at a dive bar, even danced with some guy who thought grinding on me to bad music was his best shot at foreplay. I let his hands roam, let my tongue slide against his in the bathroom stall, let him push me up against the sticky tile until his fingers slipped under my skirt.But the moment he slid inside me, just barely, my mind snapped. Not to him. To the other one. The silent one.I shoved the guy off me, breathless, laughing like it was all a joke. “Sorry, babe. Not tonight.”The poor fool looked like he didn’t know whether to beg or cry. I blew him a kiss and left, lipstick smeared, thighs damp but unsatisfied, and an ache in me that wouldn’t quit.By the time I clocked in at work that night, I was restless, high on energy I couldn’t bur

My body felt like it had been broken and remade in his hands. Every nerve still quivered, oversensitized and trembling from the way he had fucked me into the mattress, from the way he’d choked me until the world blurred and then commanded me to fall apart for him.And my obedience. It shocked me. I'd always prices myself to be a free bird, never to be tamed. Never to belong to anyone but myself, to live life by my rules and for myself and my selfish needs only... But right now, in that moment, i was questioning everything. He didn’t pull out. He stayed buried inside me, cock still hard, chest heavy against mine. The weight of him was overwhelming, yet somehow… grounding. Like my body and could needed his presence. My skin buzzed, legs tangled around his hips, my throat raw where his fingers had pressed and his teeth had grazed.I waited for him to leave. To roll off me, zip up, and vanish like smoke. That would have made sense. That would have fit. Thats what clients who are just c