The Brat - Part 4

They sat at the dining table like two strangers sharing a bottle of wine and a pretty lie. She slid the ring on her finger, let it catch the low lamplight. "Three things," he said, pouring her glass almost full. "Don’t keep score. Never fuck the help. And whatever you do, keep his cock interested." She laughed, low and throaty, legs falling open under the fine linen cloth. He reached between them, turned the tiny remote he’d laid beside his knife, and the toy hummed to life inside her. A sweet, vicious pulse. Gold. Heavy. The kind of jewel that didn’t need an occasion. Her toes curled against the polished floor. "Interested how?" she asked, already breathless. The chair creaked softly beneath her. "Tell me exactly." He lifted his glass. "Hungry," he said. "Desperate. Like it’s the first time every time." The vibration changed again, faster now, meaner. A bead of sweat traced the hollow of her throat. She smiled without breaking eye contact, one hand slipping beneath the table to press the toy deeper. Outside, a siren faded into traffic. Inside, she took another slow sip and let the lesson settle between her thighs.