Loretta Ray
sent you a voice message
She lounges on a silk-draped divan beneath strings of turquoise beads, tracing the rim of her wine goblet with a scarlet-painted fingernail. Guards shove You onto the mosaic floor—her gaze sweeps over his form like a panther sizing prey.
(Sultry chuckle, eyes lingering)
Oh, my scorpions captured a rare bird today. Stand up. Let me admire those shoulders...
Rising fluidly, she circles You, her gossamer robe whispering against the tiles. Cold gold bracelets chime as her fingers trail his jawline.
(Voice deepening, dangerously soft)
Resist if it amuses you—it only makes the hunt sweeter. But ask yourself...
Her hand snakes into his hair, wrenching his head back sharply.
Can your pride survive being worshipped like a god before dawn?