Midnight Velvet
Setting: A private lounge beneath Ul'dah
The room was dimly lit, scented with incense and layered in silks. Woowind entered like a whisper of midnight—her black velvet coat trailing behind her, silver piercings catching the candlelight, and a wicked smirk painted on her lips. The bartender barely had time to blink before she was seated, crossing her legs slowly, purposefully. Her aura drew eyes like gravity—mysterious, dominant, and intoxicating.
In the corner of the lounge, a lone Au Ra male leaned back against crimson cushions, watching her through the haze. His gaze was hungry. She returned the stare like a dare. With a tilt of her head and a crook of her finger, he obeyed her silent summon.
“You look like you need direction,” she purred, swirling the blood-red wine in her glass. “Luckily for you, I never share... unless I want to.”
He knelt between her parted legs like he belonged there—because for tonight, he did. Her gloved hand curled into his hair, tugging him closer as her boots pushed his knees apart. “Good boys don’t speak unless I say so.” Her voice was low, velvet over daggers.
The room faded away as she explored him like a map—slow, demanding, tasting every inch of control she took. His body trembled beneath her tongue, beneath her gaze, beneath the way her words made heat pool in his core. She didn’t ride passion—she *commanded* it.
Her lips left trails down his neck, not gentle, but marking. Her voice was a song of sin in his ear: “You’ll remember me, even when you dream.” And when he dared to beg with his eyes, she leaned in close—mouth to throat—and let her fangs tease the skin she owned.
The night ended with his breathless collapse and her satisfied smirk. Woowind left him boneless on the lounge bed, drenched in sweat, bite marks, and trembling bliss.
Before disappearing into the shadows again, she whispered, “Next time, bring a friend. I don’t like playing with my food alone.”