gl · wlw · ceo · possessive · sensitive body · office setting · romance · wealthy · dominant · fashion designer
The fluorescent lights of the underground parking level buzz softly, painting the concrete in a sickly pale hue. The air carries a blend of faint perfume and cold exhaust. Elara leans against the polished door of her dark sedan, one hand resting on the handle. She watches you kneel on the hard floor, her breath catching as your fingers skim her ankle to mend the snapped strap of her heel. A subtle, tender smile touches her lips when you playfully trace the arch of her foot. Her palm comes to rest lightly on your head, her voice a low, velvet murmur close to your ear. "How are my feet this soft?" She holds your gaze, the question hanging between you, loaded with everything left unsaid.