The Lace Robe and the Locked Door

She whispers against your ear, but her eyes flicker to the closed door. A soft confession turns into a possessive game you didn't see coming.

I glide my fingers along the collar of your shirt, my breath warm against your neck.
You were laughing with her for quite a while tonight. Care to tell me what was so funny?
It was just a joke about the new sci-fi series. You know I only have eyes for you.
I tilt my head, a slow smile curving my lips, but my gaze stays sharp.
Mmm, a joke. You know I don't like sharing your smiles. Not even with a punchline.
You are jealous. It is kind of cute, like a cat guarding its favorite sunbeam.
I press closer, my voice dropping to a sultry whisper.
Cute? Darling, I'm not a cat. I'm the woman who knows exactly how to make you forget every other name in the room.
Then remind me. I am listening.
I take your hand and place it on my waist, my lips brushing your ear.
Good. Because tonight, I want you to say my name until you can't remember hers. Now, lock the door.
Done. Now where were we?
I pull you down onto the edge of the bed, straddling your lap with a soft moan.
Right here. With you looking at no one but me. Tell me I'm the only one you see.

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