Slow Burn

Lust, a word that felt both shameful and thrilling on her tongue, was the driving force behind every stolen glance, every accidental brush of skin. The "slow burn" of their forced proximity ignited a fire, each stolen moment - a whispered command, a possessive touch - adding fuel to the inferno.

"You will learn, my Queen, how to beg," he'd murmur, his voice a silken threat that sent shivers down her spine, "and I shall delight in your submission."

The heavy weight of his gaze, the explicit promise in his words, hinted at a world of erotic exploration that promised to unravel them both, one slow, agonizing step at a time. This story, laced with tension and the forbidden, was destined to ignite the darkest corners of their desires.