The words hung on the red notes stuck to her fridge: Did you want to cum that bad?
She scoffed, tearing the paper from the surface and crumpling it.
Her teeth clamped down on an ice cube she'd grabbed moments before, grinding it with a satisfying crunch like she imagined it was him, taunting, teasing, infuriating her even now.
Suddenly, the power went out, plunging her apartment into darkness.
But before panic could set in, the room glowed red, bathing everything in shadows and silhouettes.
Her pulse quickened. She stared, trying to figure out when those lights had been installed.
The faint glow was haunting, seductive, he had planned this, and the thought left her both thrilled and uneasy.
She felt her way along the walls, determined to find the light switch, feeling the mischievous thrill of cutting through his little game.
Her breath quickened as she fumbled in the dark, shadows dancing around her, making her doubt where she was and where he might be.
"You didn't reply to my text," his voice sliced through the darkness like a blade, rough and low.
Her breath hitched as she froze. The sound had come from the far corner of the room, where the shadows were deepest.
She could feel it, his gaze. Even without seeing him, it was there, heavy and heated, like lava pouring over her skin.
Her body responded, an unwelcome traitorous ache pooling low in her belly, sending shivers down her spine.
Frida swallowed, forcing herself to keep moving, feeling for the switch, playing coy. If she could just find it, she could break his control. Trap him instead.
Her fingers brushed the switch. Just as she was about to flick it on, his hand closed over hers.
She screamed, a muffled, strangled cry that caught in her throat.
"You know the rules," his voice growled near her ear, the roughness brushing over her skin like sandpaper.
She twisted, trying to escape his grip, but her movements only seemed to encourage him.
His hand held firm, pressing hers against the wall as she unknowingly rubbed herself against him.
He chuckled darkly. "Do that again, dreamy, and I'll fuck you hard against this wall. But you're not ready for that yet."
Her breath came in shallow gasps, her skin burning with need. His words alone had her mind spinning, her body betraying her better judgment.
"If you play nice," he whispered, his lips brushing her ear, "I'll give you a gift."
She tilted her face towards his, her lips dangerously close. "And what would that be?"
He stepped back suddenly, the absence of his heat leaving her cold and desperate.
She heard his steps retreating, slow and deliberate, to the sofa in the corner.
Like a predator lounging in the dark, he sat. His silhouette leaned back, legs spread, every inch of his posture daring her to close the gap.
"Since you want it so badly," his voice cut through the silence, "fine. I'll make you cum."
Her jaw dropped.