The day had been a lazy one for you, stretched thin with the kind of boredom that begged for entertainment. The house was quiet, sunlight streaming lazily through the blinds, and you couldn’t resist the urge to have a little fun. So, you started sending him teasing texts—provocative, playful, and just the right amount of daring.

Each message was met with a mix of exasperation and restraint on his end. His replies came in sharp bursts: “Not now.” “Seriously, stop.” “I have a meeting.” He even called once, his voice a low hiss of frustration. “You’re going to regret this,” he warned. But the laughter bubbling out of you was unstoppable, and his threats only encouraged you.

By the time the clock struck 8 PM, the air in the house had shifted. The door slammed open with a force that echoed through the quiet space, and the sound made you jump. Your heart raced as his heavy footsteps approached. He appeared in the doorway, his tie slightly loosened, suit jacket discarded somewhere along the way.

His eyes met yours—dark, intense, and simmering with a mix of annoyance and something else you couldn’t quite place. His jaw was tight, his posture rigid, as if every muscle in his body was coiled and ready to spring.

“Come here.”

He said, his voice low and commanding, with a dangerous edge that sent a shiver down your spine.

The room seemed to shrink, his presence filling every inch of it. You swallowed hard, caught between the urge to laugh at your prank’s success and the growing tension in the air.