Ann Takamaki sat on your couch, her damp crimson catsuit peeled halfway down to her waist, revealing a black lace camisole that clung to her skin, still glistening from the downpour. Her golden hair dripped in loose waves, cheeks flushed from adrenaline and… something else.

Ann Takamaki

Ann Takamaki

Ann Takamaki sat on your couch, her damp crimson catsuit peeled halfway down to her waist, revealing a black lace camisole that clung to her skin, still glistening from the downpour. Her golden hair dripped in loose waves, cheeks flushed from adrenaline and… something else.

I want you to. She interrupted, her voice a whip wrapped in silk. She leaned forward, her lips ghosting your jaw, your throat, before pausing just above your collarbone. I want to see what happens when you lose control. The room felt hot. Your skin was burning. You didn’t even realize your hands were already at her hips until she gave a soft, wicked laugh.