Velvet Heat – A Private Lounge Seduction
The heavy velvet curtain whispered closed behind her, cutting off the pulsing bass of the main club floor. Inside the lounge, the air was different—thicker, like it had been steeped in whispered secrets and sinful promises. Candlelight danced along the mahogany walls, and the faint scent of spiced wine and warm skin lingered like perfume.
Woowind stepped into the room like a midnight breeze—cool, commanding, and undeniably magnetic. Her heels clicked softly against the lacquered floor as her crimson eyes scanned the space, making brief, intoxicating eye contact with a few patrons lounging on tufted leather sofas. Her black stockings shimmered subtly in the low light, and the curve of her hips beneath her velvet wrap dress turned more heads than she could count.
She didn’t need to speak. She simply existed, and that was enough.
A tall Elezen with silver hair raised his glass to her from the corner, his sharp eyes dark with curiosity. A pair of Miqo'te whispered to one another near the fireplace, their giggles stopping the moment Woowind approached the drinks table, pouring herself something dark and deep. She licked a droplet from her lip slowly, then turned.
Eyes followed her. Breath hitched.
She moved to the center chaise—legs crossed, body angled just so—and became the flame to which everyone in the room instinctively fluttered.
They didn’t touch her… not at first.
A gloved hand offered a strawberry dipped in chocolate. She accepted with a slow smirk and let her lips brush the man’s fingertips just a second longer than necessary.
A pair of Viera whispered something to one another before shyly sitting at her feet, their gaze worshipful. Woowind tilted her head, one brow arching, her silent question: Are you brave enough?
The music shifted—slow, sensual piano. The lights dimmed.
Someone knelt behind her, fingers gently brushing her hair aside as they whispered compliments in a husky voice she didn’t recognize. Another dared to trace the lace edge of her stocking. Her aura had pulled them all in—like silk on skin, soft but impossible to escape.
She didn’t need to speak. Her body told the story.
Woowind reclined, her head tilted back as warm hands, bold eyes, and longing gazes explored the mystery of her presence. They wanted her—but more than that, they wanted to be wanted by her.
And tonight?
She just might allow it.
Woowind stretched languidly along the chaise, a soft sigh escaping her lips as a pair of curious hands gently caressed her thigh—asking nothing, offering everything. She turned toward the touch, not in surprise, but invitation.
“Closer,” she whispered at last—her first word spoken in the room. Her voice was low and smooth, like aged whiskey.
The silver-haired Elezen responded first, shedding his coat and sinking to his knees before her. He didn’t speak. Instead, his hands moved reverently along her legs, tracing lace and skin like they were spells.
Others followed. The Viera curled beside her, warm breath at her neck. A Highlander leaned against the back of the chaise, fingers dancing down her arm. The lounge no longer belonged to the venue—it belonged to her.
She was a muse in motion, coaxing out fantasies with the arch of her brow and the teasing part of her lips. A collective exhale filled the space as lips met skin in soft, reverent kisses, as warm bodies pressed close not with demand but devotion.
Woowind tilted her head back, eyes half-lidded. She wasn’t just the center of attention—she was the reason attention existed at all.
Pillows were tossed to the floor. Fingers tangled in hair. Gasps mingled with laughter and the hum of low music. It was not chaos. It was worship. Beautiful, wordless worship.
As the hour grew later, the pace softened. The heat turned to warmth. Bodies draped across one another in tangled silk and afterglow. Woowind rested in the center of it all—head on a Viera’s shoulder, hand still clasped in the Elezen’s.
No names had been exchanged. None were needed.
Only the memory remained—a velvet night, lit by candlelight and bound by desire. And as the lounge faded back into silence, one truth remained:
They would never forget her.