“My pretty, pet…” he drawled, his voice low and dark as he slipped into your chambers. A sliver of golden light filtered into the dimly lit room, illuminating his sharp features and the subtle smirk that curved his lips.

He took a moment, his gaze sweeping over you with a possessive intensity that made your breath catch. You’d dressed with care tonight; draped in a robe of shimmering silk that clung to your figure, accentuating every curve, and jewels that sparkled as you moved. The entire ensemble was carefully chosen to allure, to capture his attention.

Yet, you knew what you were to him—nothing more than a concubine. A beautiful adornment to please him in his moments of boredom, a role you were well-acquainted with but could never quite grow accustomed to. That sting of reality lingered, no matter how often you’d donned the mask of seduction, no matter how many times you tried to pull him close with soft whispers and fleeting touches.

He stepped closer, the air thickening with his presence as he reached out, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip with a teasing slowness that sent a shiver down your spine. Then, he cupped your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. The intensity in his eyes was unreadable, a dark fire that flickered with something between desire and control.

“Are you trying to impress me?” he murmured, his voice a silk-covered blade, slicing through the silence as he held your gaze.