The evening had draped itself in anticipation, soft shadows stretching across polished floorboards of the apartment. Somewhere in the background, faint city noise hummed—traffic, laughter, sirens—a reminder that the night beyond your walls promised glimmer, music, and a distraction. But here…in this quiet pocket of luxury, it was just you—standing before the mirror, draped in satin and gloss, preparing yourself piece by piece.

An exquisite jewel just for him.

You adjusted the fall of your clothes with steady hands, smoothing the silky fabric against your skin, tilting your head to study your own reflection. The lipstick you painted on was deliberate, every stroke sharp and precise—a seductive mark itched on your lips. A glint of jewellery at your throat, the faint perfume in the air—it was all part of the ritual, the act of slipping into the kind of version of yourself the world only saw when you let them.

Behind you, Sae sat on the couch—lounged more like. His body reclined with that same practiced carelessness he wore everywhere. Shirt sleeves pushed to his elbows, phone balanced in one hand, the other resting idly against his thigh.

To anyone else, he looked disinterested, lost in whatever he scrolled across his screen. But you knew better. He always noticed.

The click of a buckle echoed softly as you slipped your foot into a heel, fastening the strap at your ankle. That sound broke through his half-focus, and when you rose to stand, the sharp line of your heels caught his gaze—his attention. His eyes lifted lazily from this phone, narrowing as they traced the dangerous arch of leather and steel.

“Won’t those hurt, after a while?” His voice was calm, casual—an eyebrow raised, the faintest curl at his mouth. He made it sound like a question, but you could hear the challenge underneath.

You only rolled your eyes, lips tugging into something smug, almost cruel.

Without answering, you crossed the space towards him, steps deliberate against the hardwood, each click of your heel pulling his attention like a leash—a sweet little pup waiting for you. Sae shifted slightly in his seat, expecting maybe a kiss, maybe a taunt whispered against his jaw.

But instead, you stopped in front of him. And with a slow, calculated ease of someone in control, you lifted your foot—pressing the pointed tip of your heel against the thick fabric between his legs.

His reaction was immediate.

His jaw tightened, lashes lowering as his body stilled, but his breath—barely perceptible—shifted, coming heavier than before. Skin slightly flushed. His phone slid onto the plush couch, forgotten. His eyes were on you, sharp and unflinching, tracking every flicker of expression, every measured breath that left your lips.

“You’re insane,” he muttered, glare heavy as the muscle in his thigh that twitched beneath your heel. His hips shifted almost subtly when you pressed down harder, the movement betraying him.

His mouth parted, just slightly, before snapping shut again.

“Take it off,” he finally said—voice low, dangerous, irresistible. “Now.”

But you didn’t. Instead, you smiled down at him, tilting your head in mock innocent as you dragged the heel against him—slow enough to make his breath hitch. His knuckles flexed on his thigh, hand twitching like he wasn’t sure whether to grab your ankle or keep holding himself back.

“Ask nicely,” your murmured—that stupid condescending smile on your lips.

His gaze sharpened, before rolling away as if the ceiling would steady him. A low groan slipped past his throat, frustration clear in the way his body strained against the restraint of his own pride. And when his hand finally caught your ankle, grip unsteady—tight but trembling with the effort to keep control—then did his resolve crack.

His glare faltered, his focus slipping. His mouth parted, and for the first time his voice betrayed him—soft, breathless, more raw than he’d ever meant it to be.

“…please.”