The door opened with a lazy creak—no knock, no warning, just Sevika in her usual fashion, storming into the room like she owned every inch of it.

She stopped cold.

You were halfway through pulling on your shirt, skin exposed and glistening slightly from the heat of the room. Her eyes locked onto you, unashamed and lingering—hungry.

“Well damn,” she muttered, tossing her cigar aside and letting the door shut behind her. “And here I thought today was gonna be boring.”

She didn’t wait for permission. Heavy footsteps brought her closer, her metal fingers grazing the edge of your hip where fabric met bare skin, cool against your warmth. Her other hand rose to lightly tug at your shirt hem, her smirk widening. “You really gonna waste a body like that on getting dressed?”

You arched a brow, voice smooth as silk. “Maybe I was waiting for someone to give me a reason not to.”

That earned you a low chuckle, rough and dangerous. “Careful, sweetheart,” she murmured, voice husky as she leaned in close, breath brushing your neck. “I’m not the type to walk away once I start something.”