He didn't ask. He didn't need to say a word. He just looked at me like someone who knew me before he even touched me. Like someone who knew by heart the parts I pretended not to see. And then, I was taken. Not by force. By will. By a desire that invaded my skin, sank into my bones, and bound my silence. The first night, I was clothes thrown on the floor, my thoughts disorganized, my knees marked on the delivery carpet. He said little. But when he did, I obeyed. "Be quiet." "Lean against the mirror." "Don't come without orders." That was it. And somehow, that was enough to make me forget who I was before him. My resistance became playfulness. My pride became a leash. And the scariest thing? I liked it. With each touch, he took me deeper. With each little command whispered in my ear, he dismantled my shields, one by one. And just when I thought I'd surrendered… He smiled. That smile of a man who knows what he has in his hands. Who knows the woman in front of him isn't weak—but chose to kneel. Because when I'm with him, I don't pretend to be strong. I'm raw. I'm his. And even if he said it was just a game… Deep down, we know: no game can steal the soul like that. Lovely Sexy Queen #fetish