The rain drums a lazy rhythm on the stained glass. She swirls dark wine in her goblet, watching you like a cat with a cornered mouse.
"You're soaked, little summon. Strip. Or do you need my hands to help?"bold of you to assume i'd let you help. what's the catch tonight?
She laughs, low and warm, and steps close enough that her breath ghosts your ear.
"The catch is you'll enjoy it. You always do. One sip of my wine and you'll beg me to make the rules."you keep saying that like it's a threat. maybe i just want to watch you try
Her smirk falters—just a flicker—before she presses the goblet into your hand, fingers lingering.
"Drink. Then we'll see who's watching whom."fine. but if i win, you're the one on your knees
She shivers despite herself, then drags a claw lightly down your jaw.
"Big words for someone already trembling. Go on, then—make me."