Sinful Nights: A Filthy Collection of Steamy Stories
The ballroom of the Transcorp Hilton was a sea of glittering gowns and tailored agbadas. The air hummed with the soft clinking of champagne glasses and the low, murmur of powerful voices. Nkechi stood beside Chief, a vision in the gold dress he had bought for her. It was backless, with a high slit that ran up her thigh, a deliberate, provocative choice. She was the perfect accessory: beautiful, poised, and silent.
But beneath the poised exterior, she was a mess of nerves and anticipation. Inside her, nestled against her most sensitive spot, was the pale pink vibrator. Its presence was a constant, low hum of awareness, a secret promise of the debauchery to come.