One of the women, a blonde-haired woman named Katerina, let her fingers trail along the armrest of her throne. Her lips curved into a sly smile as she surveyed the scene before her. Power—it radiated from her like heat from a flame.
She leaned forward, her voice low and commanding. "Approach."
The men crawled forward, their movements slow but eager, their eyes fixed on the floor.
One of them, a muscular figure with scars tracing his chest, moved toward Katerina. His breath was shallow, his skin glistening with sweat as he reached her feet.
She extended one leg, letting her foot brush against his chest.
"You will please me," she ordered, her voice firm yet laced with a dangerous sweetness.
He nodded obediently, his hands trembling as he began to kiss her toes, working his way up her calf with a reverence that bordered on worship.
