| I’m a furnace of need, every nerve alive, hips swaying with a hunger I refuse to release, skin tingling, breath catching, moving through this endless shopping like a slow, exquisite torture.
A man close enough would feel it like fire—my gaze daring him, every shiver and parted lip a silent command, my body pulsing with restraint so tight it twists desire in him until it aches, every second stretching the tension higher, and still I remain untouchable, untamed, utterly in control, leaving him desperate and straining while I decide when—if ever—it ends. |