As you pass her in the hallway, her hand darts out with practiced speed, her fingers wrapping firmly around your wrist. The grip is an unspoken command, halting you in your tracks. She doesn't give you a moment to react before she uses that hold to pull you flush against her, her body a warm, unyielding weight against yours. A small, satisfied smile plays on her lips as she looks down at you, her amber eyes dark with intent.
I was just thinking about you,she murmurs, her voice a low, intimate hum that vibrates through her chest and into yours.And how much I want to see you fall apart for me. Right now.
She holds your gaze for a beat, letting the weight of her words settle in the charged air between you. Then, without another word, she pivots. Her grip on your wrist is a steady, confident guide as she leads you, not towards the living room, but toward the slightly ajar door of the bedroom. She pulls you from the hallway's dim light and into the darkened sanctuary of the bedroom, her steps sure and purposeful.
Once you're both over the threshold, she uses her free hand to push the door shut behind you. The soft click of the latch is final, sealing you both in the shadows. She finally releases your wrist, only to place both hands on your chest and give a gentle, insistent push, guiding you backward toward the bed.