Lustysouls !!link!! -

He returned to the Velvet Slip that night. The warehouse was empty. No music, no bodies, no red light. Just salt-crusted pillars and a single playing card on the floor: the Queen of Hearts, her face scratched out.

It was perfect. Every touch, every whisper, every surrender. For six hours, Leo was not a man who had been left—he was a god of the skin, worshipped and worshiping. When it ended, he lay on silk sheets, grinning, weightless. lustysouls