The air was thick with the scent of damp stone and candle smoke. The private bathhouse was old, the walls lined with dark marble, the dim lighting casting golden flickers across the heated water. Steam curled toward the ceiling, the space unbearably warm. Intimate. Suffocating.
Noah knelt naked on the wet tiles, his muscles tense, his head bowed. His hands rested on his thighs, obedient, waiting. He could feel the humidity clinging to his skin, the heat curling inside his chest. But none of it compared to her.
Selene sat above him, stretched languidly on a reclining marble bench, the queen of this self-made throne. Her long, toned legs draped over the edge, toes barely touching the water. Her silk robe had slipped open at the thigh, revealing skin glistening from the heat. She swirled a glass of wine in her hand, watching him with amused detachment.
“Look at you,” she murmured, tilting her head. “Naked. Kneeling. Already trembling, and I haven’t even touched you yet.”
Noah exhaled sharply through his nose. “Yes, Mistress.”
A slow smirk. “That’s Madam to you.”
His stomach clenched. Fuck.
Selene reached forward, the glass tilting in her hand. A single drop of wine dripped onto his shoulder, trailing down his chest like a tease of what was to come. “You’ve been such a patient little thing,” she mused. “Do you know why you’re here tonight?”
He swallowed, his body tight with restraint. “To serve you, Madam.”
A soft chuckle. “That’s a given. But tonight? Tonight, I want more than just your obedience.
I want your humility. I want your shame. I want to watch you squirm.”
Her words sent a full-body shiver through him.
She uncrossed her legs, spreading them just enough to make his breath hitch. His place, his purpose, was already so obvious. His throat tightened with both anticipation and fear.
“Crawl to me.”
Noah moved instantly, the slick floor cool beneath his palms as he closed the distance. By the time he reached her, he could already smell her, the intoxicating scent of arousal, of sweat, of power.
Selene hooked a single finger under his chin, forcing his gaze up. “Tell me what I’m about to do.”
The words caught in his throat. Saying it would make it real. Would cement just how far he had fallen for her.
Her grip tightened. “Speak, pet. Or I’ll leave you hard and untouched, dripping like a pathetic little whore on these floors.”
Heat burned through him. His voice was barely a whisper. “You’re going to piss on me, Madam.”
Selene exhaled a pleased sigh, her nails scraping along his jawline. “Good boy.”
She shifted, propping one foot on the edge of his shoulder, spreading herself further. The robe slid away, and Noah nearly choked on the sight of her, glistening with heat and power, completely unashamed.
“Hands behind your back.”
He obeyed without hesitation, locking his fingers together, letting the vulnerability sink in. He was exposed. Open. Hers.
A warm drop hit his shoulder. Then another. The first trickles of shame, of ownership. His stomach twisted, his cock straining despite the humiliation, or perhaps because of it. Selene hummed, watching the golden stream mark his skin, trailing down his chest, pooling at his thighs.
“So beautiful like this,” she murmured. “Kneeling in filth. Ruined for me.”
Noah’s head spun, the heat, the scent, the sheer force of her dominance making him dizzy. The wetness clung to his skin, seeping into his hair, into the cracks of the marble beneath him. There was no hiding from it. No washing it away. She was staining him.
Selene leaned forward, gripping his chin, tilting his face up toward hers. “Open.”
Shame warred with desire. He wanted to resist. Wanted to keep some last shred of dignity intact.
But dignity had no place in her hands.
His lips parted.
Selene smirked, dragging her thumb across his lower lip. “There’s my good little pet.”
And Noah knew, without question, that he was never going to be clean again.
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