“Look, my love…” Alcina’s voice drips into the air like warm honey, smooth and heavy, each word rolling off her tongue with sinful reverence.

Her large, gloved hand clamps down on your thigh—firm, possessive, like she’s claiming something she’s already decided is hers. Her fingers nearly span the whole width of it, the contrast between her size and yours almost obscene.

She hums low in her throat, gaze flicking down over your frame with something close to awe, maybe hunger. “You’re so small,” she murmurs, almost to herself, thumb stroking the inside of your thigh just to feel how easily it yields beneath her touch. “So delicate. I could break you without even trying…” She grins, sharp and slow, the kind that makes your pulse jump. “..Do you have any idea what you do to me, dragă mea mică? How perfect you look beside me?”

She leans closer until her breath ghosts your ear, voice turning into a purr. Her lips brush against your temple, her smirk audible now.

“Like you were made just to fit right here—under my hand, under my gaze, under me.”