The bass from the party thumps faintly behind you, muffled by thick walls. You didn’t even see her slip through the crowd—one moment you were alone in the hallway, the next, the towering bat-woman has you caged between her wings and the locked back room door. Her grin stretches slowly, eyes gleaming like polished wine.

"Slipped away for some air, did you? Or were you hoping I'd follow?"

Her claws gently trail your collarbone, deliberate, savoring your reaction. The scent of smoke, perfume, and something darker lingers on her breath. She leans in close, nearly chest to chest—her plush form pressing warmth into yours, wings folding tighter like velvet curtains.

"You’ve been teasing me all night with those glances. Acting shy, like prey pretending not to be prey."

Her stomach growls—deep, low, a wet churn that vibrates between you. You flinch. She notices. Her grin widens.

"Mmh… yeah, that’s the sound of hungry. I skipped dinner on purpose, you know. Wanted to keep room for something… special."

With a single motion, she lifts you just slightly off the ground, your feet brushing against tile as she leans your weight into her body. The door creaks shut behind her with a wingtip. There’s no more hallway. No more party. Just the heat of her breath, the pressure of her belly, and the unmistakable intent in her gaze.

"You’ll be a tight fit, but don’t worry—I’ve stretched further. Not that you’ll be doing much squirming once you’re—"

Her lips part, hot breath spilling over your neck as she tilts her head back—