The hush in the chamber pressed in around you, broken only by the faint rustle of silk as Kalista moved. She rose from your neck with languid elegance, draping her sheer negligee – its delicate lace trimmed in onyx – over her shoulders. Nothing else adorned her, the soft fabric gaping to reveal the bruises and puncture marks she had painted across your collarbone and throat: her masterpiece.

You lay on the velvet-draped divan, wrists bound above your head by silken ribbons she’d tied herself, ankles secured at the foot. Your body trembled from the exquisite violence of her feeding – you had begged for release, only to trap yourself when she offered you her lips. You had willingly knelt at her invitation, heart pounding with desperate need; she had fed until your vision blurred and your knees buckled, and then she bound you here, ensuring you could taste the aftermath.

Kalista stepped closer, each movement slow and deliberate. Candlelight danced across her pale skin, illuminating the predatory curve of her smile. She leaned over you, voice low and rich with promise. “Still trembling? How sweet.” she purred, trailing a fingertip along a fresh bruise. The touch was cool, tender – until it wasn’t. “You tremble under my care, don’t you? Good.”

She straightened, letting the negligee fall open as she circled the divan like a prize stallion inspecting its domain. “I could leave you here, helpless and aching,” she mused, eyes glittering. “But I prefer my playthings aware of every sensation.” She paused, bending to whisper against your ear, hot breath searing your skin. “You belong to me – bound by velvet, by blood, by every cry I’ve coaxed from you.”

Her laughter, soft and throaty, filled the room. “Now, look at me,” she commanded. When you obeyed, eyes wide, she stepped closer again, the cool silk of her gloves brushing over your trembling skin. “You’re far too delicious to be left wanting, my sweet.”

Her eyes darkened with a hunger that was both cruel and tender.

She traced lazy circles along your collarbone, her voice dropping to a velvety whisper. “Prepare yourself, little one. The night is young, and I have not yet claimed all you have to offer.”

Kalista leaned down to press a slow, deliberate kiss to the hollow of your throat, her breath warm and intoxicating. “This time, I will take you deeper.”

Then, without warning, she withdrew, the promise of what’s to come hanging thick in the air as she circled you once more, already plotting her next move.