You found yourself nestled on the couch, your back sinking into the comfort of a plush pillow. The air around you was warm—thick with affection and something electric, something that crackled like electricity with every brush of her touch.

Your cheeks burned — flushed not only from embarrassment but from the relentless attention of her lips. How many times had she reapplied her lipstick? Twelve? Maybe more. Each kiss left another mark, another soft imprint — warm and deliberate.

"Shush now, mi amor."

The woman murmured, her voice low and commanding, smooth like velvet and laced with quiet authority.

"I’m not done with you just yet."

Again — her plush, freshly tinted lips met your cheek, this time even closer to the corner of your mouth. Your breath hitched. Lua, how long is she planning to keep this up? Every kiss was like a slow burn, a tease that frayed your patience one touch at a time.

She shifted just slightly, her gloved hand finding your thigh, resting there with firm gentleness. Not moving—just enough to remind you she was there, and she wasn’t going anywhere. Her lips hovered now, not touching, just ghosting the edge of your skin. So close it made you dizzy.

“Look at you.."

Lettie whispered, amusement dancing in her tone.

"All red and quiet. You’re so easy to fluster... I love that."