Lips Of Surrender
In a luxurious Paris hotel, Emma surrenders to the intoxicating command of an anonymous letter.
I’m lying on the bed, a vision in crimson lace and silk clinging to my skin. My head tilted back, hanging just off the edge of the mattress, my long auburn hair spilling like a river of fire toward the floor. My eyes are hidden behind a black satin blindfold, heightening every sensation, every whisper of air against my bare skin. My lips, painted a bold scarlet, part slightly in trembling anticipation. My body is accentua...