The elevator opened straight into darkness. Not pitch black. Just low. City lights bled through the walls of glass. They painted everything in blues and golds. No hallway. No foyer. Just space. Vast. Like stepping onto a cloud made of money.
Key still in my fist. Warm from my grip. How'd it get there? Didn't matter. She wanted me here.
I stepped out. Doors whispered shut behind. Shoes on marble. The echo is too loud. Heart louder.
"Isabella?"
Voice cracked. Stupid.
Lights flickered on. Soft. From hidden strips. The living room dwarfed my apartment. Couch white leather. Long enough for an orgy. Art on walls. Abstract slashes of red. It looked like blood if you stared too long.
"J."
From the shadows. Balcony doors open. Breeze stirred curtains. She stood there. Back to me. Robe silk. Black. It slipped off one shoulder. Hair down now. Waves to her waist. Bare feet.
I closed the distance slowly. Afraid to spook her. Or me.
"You came." She turned. Eyes caught the city glow. Robe tied loose. Hint of nothing underneath.
"The key was in my badge." I held it up. Dumb.
Smile. Small. "I know."
She took it from my fingers. Slipped it back on that chain. Between breasts. Robe parted just enough. No bra. Skin flushed.
"Sit." She nodded to the couch.
I sat. Edge. Hands on knees.
She poured. Two glasses. Dark liquid. From a decanter older than me. She handed one. "Drink."
Whiskey. It burned good. Loosened the knot in my chest.
She paced in front. Robe swayed. "Victor's in Tokyo. Three days."
Three days. Alone. With her.
"What is this?" I gestured vaguely. Place. Us.
"This?" She stopped close. Knee between mine. "Opportunity."
Hand on my thigh. Up slow. "You've been good. Patient."
Fingers at my belt. Unbuckled. Zipper down. She pulled me out. Hard before she touched.
"Look at you." She stroked once. Twice. "Always ready."
I moaned. Head back.
She knelt. Like in the elevator. But slower. Teased with tongue. Eyes locked. Took a deep breath. Throat worked.
Hands in her hair. Silk. I pulled gently. She hummed. Vibration shot through.
She pulled off. Stood. Robe dropped.
Naked.
Body. God. Curves earned. Not gym-faked. Scar on her hip now. It matched the one on her collarbone. Breasts heavy. Nipples dark. Patch trimmed neatly.
"Bedroom."
I followed. The Hallway was lined with doors. One open. Bed king. Sheets black. Mirrors on the ceiling.
She pushed me down. Straddled. Ground slow. Wet. She slid over me.
"Condom?" I mumbled.
"No." She kissed hard. "Clean. Pill."
But later I'd learn lies.
She sank down. Tight. Hot. Virgin no more. Wait. The elevator was mouth. This. This was everything.
I groaned loudly. She rode slowly. Hips rolling. Hands on my chest. Nails digging.
"Fuck," I whispered. First time I swore in front of her.
Smile. "Language."
Faster. Breasts bounced. I reached up. Cupped. Pinched nipples. She gasped. Ground harder.
I came inside. Too soon. She kept moving. Chased hers. Head thrown back. Moan low. Animal.
She collapsed on me. Sweat slick. Heartbeats synced.
After. She traced the mark on my neck. From the elevator. "Mine now."
She rolled off. Lit a cigarette. Smoke curled lazily. "Stay tonight."
Didn't ask. Told.
We showered together. Glass stall. Rain head. I soaped her back. Ass. Between legs. Fingers slipped inside. She braced the wall. Pushed back.
She came again. Quiet this time.
Bed after. Sheets cool. She curled against me. Leg over mine.
"Tell me about your first." Voice soft. Rare.
"First what?"
"Crush. Girl. Boy. Whatever."
I hesitated. "High school. Sarah. Never touched."
She laughed low. "Sweet."
Hand drifted south. She stroked me hard again.
"Round two."
This time her on back. Legs wide. I guided in. Slow thrusts. Eyes locked.
"Harder."
I pounded. The bed creaked. Mirrors showed everything. My ass clenched. Her tits jiggled.
I came again. She didn't. Frustrated.
"Tomorrow," I promised. "I'll learn."
Sleep came heavily. I woke to the sun. She's gone. Note on pillow. *Coffee in the kitchen. Be at desk by 9. -I*
Dressed in yesterday's clothes. Elevator down. The key is gone from the chain. She took it?
Office. Mark raised a brow. "Rough night?"
I grinned. Couldn't help.
She passed later. Professional. Nod. But eyes promised more.
Nights blurred. Victor away. Penthouse every evening.
I learned her body. What made her arch? Gasp. Beg. Rare. But when.
Oral. Her teaching. "Slower. Tease."
Fingers. Curled just right. She squirted once. Shocked us both.
Toys. Drawer full. Vibrator on her clit while I fucked slowly. But always recorded. Cameras hidden. Didn't know yet.
Friday. Victor will be back tomorrow.
Last night. Intense.
She bound my wrists. Silk ties. To bedposts.
"Trust me."
Blindfold.
Ice. Tongue. Wax. Pain pleasure mix.
I came untouched. She rode my face after.
Morning. Untied. She kissed wrists red.
"Back to intern." Voice is cold again. Ice queen.
Elevator down. Alone.
Key in my pocket now. When?
Didn't ask.
But at the desk, email. Victor. *My office. 10am.*
Heart dropped.
What did he know?
I walked in. Victor is behind the desk. Smiling. Or snarling.
"Close the door, son."
Son.
I sat.
"Good work on the Asia report. Promotion. My team."
Relief. Then suspicion.
Isabella is in the corner. Watching.
Smile secret.
Promotion. Closer to them both.
Danger.
But that night, penthouse again. The key worked.
She opened the door naked.
"Victor suspects nothing. Yet."
She pulled me in.
Sex on the floor. Entryway. Hard. Fast.
I came inside again.
She whispered, "Soon. More."
But what more?
The camera in the hallway blinked red.
Still blind.
For now, just the penthouse. The body. The addiction started.
The key burned a hole in the pocket.
The air tasted of rust and smoke. Silence thick as wool lingered in the mirrors.