The air was thick with steam, the scent of cedarwood and sweat clinging to Isabella’s skin as she knelt on the heated wooden planks. The sauna’s warmth wrapped around her like an embrace, drawing the blood to the surface, making her body heavy, sensitive.
Above her, lounging against the bench, sat Mistress Evangeline.
Wrapped in nothing but a silk robe, slightly parted at the thigh, Evangeline watched her with a slow, knowing smirk. “You look exquisite like this, pet. Flushed. Needy. Leaking.”
Isabella shivered despite the heat. Between her legs, the evidence of her arousal mixed with something deeper, richer. It trickled down her thighs, smearing against her skin, dark against the light sheen of sweat. Shame burned in her cheeks, but Evangeline only exhaled a soft laugh.
“Why so shy? You think I don’t love seeing you like this? Open, raw, marked by nature itself?”
A hand tangled in Isabella’s damp hair, dragging her closer until her cheek pressed against the Mistress’ thigh. Evangeline’s skin was warm, slick with sweat, the scent of her intoxicating.
“You smell ripe, pet.” A fingernail traced down Isabella’s spine, making her arch. “Like a woman who’s meant to be consumed.”
A sharp tug forced Isabella to look up. Evangeline’s golden eyes burned through her. “Tell me, pet… do you trust me?”
“Yes, Mistress,” Isabella whispered, her pulse hammering.
Evangeline’s fingers slid between Isabella’s thighs, finding the slick heat, smearing it deliberately across her inner thighs. “Then give me everything.”
The command sent a shudder through Isabella’s body. The heat, the pressure, the way Mistress’ fingers spread her open, coating her own skin in the deep red evidence of her surrender, it was filthy. Primal. Perfect.
Mistress let go of her hair, reaching for the neatly folded white towel beside her. Then smear.
She dragged it between Isabella’s thighs, watching the fabric stain, watching Isabella see the mark she had made.
“Look at that mess,” Evangeline murmured, her voice dripping with amusement. “You’re ruining my sauna, pet.”
Isabella whimpered, her thighs twitching as Mistress spread her open again, dragging her fingers through the red-streaked wetness, pressing it against Isabella’s lips. “Taste yourself.”
The shame was unbearable. The hunger was worse. Isabella parted her lips, tongue flicking out, taking the salt, the iron, the taste of herself mixed with sweat and submission.
Evangeline groaned. “That’s my good girl. So obedient. So fucking filthy.”
The stained towel was cast aside, forgotten. Mistress shifted, spreading her own legs now, revealing herself in the humid air. “Clean me up, pet.”
Isabella dove forward, desperate, messy, uncaring of the heat, the sweat, the way the evidence of her surrender still coated her skin. She wanted to ruin everything. To make it filthier. To drown in it.
And as Evangeline’s fingers tightened in her hair, forcing her deeper, Isabella knew she would.
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