Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322
I’d met him in an underground club where the bass rattled your teeth and the air tasted of ozone and cedar. He was a creature of sharp angles, layers of charcoal linen, and eyes that held the flat, impenetrable darkness of an abyss. When he touched me, it felt like an invitation to a ritual I wasn’t sure I’d enjoy.
Tonight, the room was lit only by a cluster of wax candles that wept long, distorted trails of onto the floorboards. I stood in the center of the room, feeling my heart beat frantically drum against my ribs. Silas moved behind me. His hands felt cold against my skin, sending a jolt of ice-cold electricity down my spine.
a ritual
He moved with a clinical kind of grace. He didn’t rush. His fingers lingered, tracing the fragile line of my collarbone.
It wasn’t just physical. I smelled damp earth and something iron-rich spilled on stone. The darkness in the corners of the room seemed to stretch, reaching out with elongated, spindly fingers that danced along the walls.
“Look at me,” I commanded. He gasped as I met his gaze. His pupils, once mere dots, had swallowed the irises entirely. He wasn’t just a man in black lace and leather anymore, he was a conduit for something older. Something that fed on the frantic, jagged rhythm of my pulse.
Every time I tightened my hold, the shadows in the room surged closer, pressing against his skin like a physical weight, both cold and suffocating. I realized then that I wasn’t just playing with a goth boy at the edge of his sanity, he was an offering.
His breath hitched as I leaned in. My lips brushed his ear, smelling of mint and withered lilies. “Give it to me,” I murmured, sounding as if my voice were echoing from deep underground. “Give me all of your fear.”
Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322
https://phonesexcandy.com/stella/