The deep

Cruel Cruel Mistress

She knew she had crossed a line that night when she so rudely halted their encounter. A tumultuous mix of desire and fear churned within her, igniting a fierce longing to indulge in every forbidden impulse with him. Yet, beneath the surface, a darker truth loomed - she was a lethal force cloaked in allure, aware that her touch could be fatal, like venomous thorns poised to fatally wound anyone who dared to come too close.

She couldn't bear the thought of facing him and crushing his hope entirely, so she resorted to playing games and keeping her distance. Maybe if he hated her enough, it would make their inevitable parting less bittersweet. But her plan had only made things more complicated. Now that their attraction was out in the open, staying neutral and unaffected by each other would be a difficult feat. Her mind would be consumed with thoughts of their admissions every waking moment, making it nearly impossible to maintain her façade.

As night descended, she succumbed to a restless slumber, her body stirring with a primal ache that twisted beneath her skin. Soft whimpers escaped her lips, echoing through the room like a haunting melody, a symphony of desire that would surely torment him. The air hummed with tension, heavy and charged with an unspoken yearning that wrapped around her like tendrils of smoke.

With the first light of dawn filtering through the curtains, she emerged from her turbulent dreams with a newfound determination. Each movement was deliberate, every glance laced with an intoxicating allure as she prepared for the day ahead. Her eyes sparkled with mischief, a silent promise of seduction lingering in their depths. The challenge lay before her like a forbidden fruit, beckoning her to partake in a game where victory meant surrendering to the intoxicating dance of power and desire.

She meticulously selected an outfit she had acquired online weeks before, her memory serving her well as she deftly navigated his laptop to make the purchase. Each item she chose was a calculated move, her intentions steeped in a wicked resolve. The garment of choice was a striking red dress, its simplicity belying its provocative nature. Clinging to her curves like a second skin, the fabric left little to the imagination, sheer and revealing. 

Eschewing undergarments, she adorned herself with just a veil of perfume, tousled her pure white hair into an effortlessly seductive cascade, and applied mascara and blush with precision. Her skin radiated with renewed vitality, bronzed and luminous, exuding an irresistible allure that beckoned attention and desire.

She'd fuck herself if she was being honest. Silently, she glided towards the unopened bedroom door where Ambrose remained hidden. Standing before it, she raised her hand and tapped gently, the sound barely audible in the heavy silence of the house. No response came, so she knocked again, this time with more force, the sound echoing down the empty hallway. Frustration mounting, she called out his name, her voice tinged with a hint of urgency that betrayed her growing concern.

☠︎

Fucking hell, Ambrose's mind swirled with vivid recollections of the previous night, his thoughts consumed by tantalizing memories. As he awoke, he found himself in a state of arousal that persisted despite his attempts to dispel it. Seated on the edge of his bed, clad only in grey sweatpants, his desire stood proudly at full attention. The image of her teasing him relentlessly lingered in his mind, her provocative movements igniting a fiery ache within him. Her passionate moans echoed in his ears, tempting him to abandon all restraint and fulfill her desires with an intensity that matched his own primal longing