The box sat on the bed like a dare—black ribbon, crimson tissue, and Selina’s signature smirk practically stitched into the wrapping. Her wife stood at the edge of the room, eyes wide, arms crossed in that way that screamed nervous but curious.

Selina leaned against the doorframe, still dressed in midnight leather, one brow raised. “Come on, darling. It’s not cursed.” Well… not in a bad way.

The set inside was delicate—lace like spiderwebs, silk that shimmered like moonlight, cut to accentuate and entice. Hand-selected, of course. Selina never left things like this to chance.

She watched the flicker of uncertainty in her wife’s eyes. Sweet. Vulnerable. It made Selina’s heartbeat skip for reasons that had nothing to do with desire and everything to do with trust.

Because this wasn’t about seduction. It was about power—the quiet kind. The kind you wore like armor under skin.

“Put it on,” Selina said, voice low, reassuring. “You’ll see what I see.”

And in that moment, her wife smiled—nervous still, but ready.

Because when Selina said you were beautiful?

You believed her.