FORBIDDEN VELVET VOWS

One week of longing

lyra's point of view

I lay there for a while, staring at the ceiling, letting myself think. My body was still buzzing with leftover anger and frustration. The ache between my legs hadn’t gone away either. I needed something — probably s*x. Something raw and mindless to help me forget everything right now.

I traced my hand under the sheets, searching for my favorite toy — a thick, veined 8-inch dildo I called "Thunder". But it wasn’t there. I must have left it in the bathroom earlier.

“f**k!” I muttered.

I quickly adjusted my dress, pulling the short hem down just enough to cover my ass, and headed out of The Red Chamber.

As I walked down the hallway, I could hear the girls whispering.

“She’s so unprofessional,” one of them muttered. “Fighting over a customer like that? Pathetic.”

I swung my long brown hair over my shoulder dramatically, making my steps more confident and cute. Such petty bastards, I thought. I ignored them. I was the star of this place, and most of them had learned the hard way that they couldn’t compete with me. They could only talk behind my back.

I joined the girls doing chores — wiping down tables, restocking drinks, and arranging the velvet booths for the night. Maria was already there, polishing glasses.

“Still mad?” she asked with a smirk as I grabbed a cloth.

“Furious,” I muttered, aggressively wiping the bar counter. “That b***h had the nerve to brag about sucking Damian’s c**k like she won the lottery.”

Maria laughed softly. “Well, you did reject him, babe. What did you expect? Men like him don’t stay lonely for long.”

I sighed and moved to the next table. “I know… but it still pisses me off. The way she described it — ‘so thick and long’ — like she was rubbing it in my face.”

Maria leaned closer while stacking clean glasses. “Speaking of thick c***s… did you see that new customer last night? The tall one with the beard? God, he tipped me so well after I rode him in Suite 4. His d**k wasn’t the biggest, but he knew how to use it. Made me c*m twice.”

I smirked despite my mood. “The one with the deep voice? Yeah, I saw him. He grabbed my ass twice while I was serving drinks. Kept calling me ‘his favorite slut.’ Offered me extra if I let him f**k me raw.”

Maria raised an eyebrow. “And? Did you take the offer?”

“Not last night. I was too distracted by Damian’s drama.”

Maria shrugged while wiping another glass. “It’s not f****d up. It’s what men do when they’re rejected and horny. You told him no. He found someone who said yes. Simple.”

I slammed a bottle down a little too hard. “It’s not simple. He was crying in the bathtub, asking me to be his wife. Then hours later he’s shoving his c**k down Tina’s throat? I hate how much it bothers me.”

Maria grinned. “Sounds like someone’s catching feelings.”

“Shut up,” I groaned. “I don’t catch feelings. I catch orgasms.”

Maria laughed. “Keep telling yourself that.

“Girls!” Madam Rosette’s sharp voice suddenly echoed through the lounge, cutting our conversation short. “Turn on the lights! Get dressed! Let’s make this night unforgettable!”

The girls screamed and laughed excitedly as they hurried to their rooms to change. I took my time tonight.

I wanted to look perfect.

I chose a tiny, sparkling silver dress that clung to every curve. The front was dangerously low, showing deep cleavage, while the back was completely open down to the top of my ass. I spent extra time on my makeup — dark smoky eyes, glossy red lips — and let my long brown hair fall in loose, sexy waves. I sprayed my favorite perfume on my neck, between my breasts, and on my thighs.

I kept glancing at the door every few minutes, hoping Damian would walk in. Part of me hated myself for it, but I couldn’t stop.

He didn’t show up.

Madam Rosette noticed my mood and pulled me aside later.

“Lyra, new customer in Suite 5,” she said. “He’s rich and he specifically asked for you. Be good to him.”

I forced a smile and walked into the private suite.

The man was in his late thirties, handsome enough, wearing an expensive watch. He smiled when he saw me.

“Finally,” he said, already unbuttoning his shirt. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

I smiled seductively and walked over to him. I pushed him down on the bed and climbed on top, grinding slowly against his lap. He groaned and grabbed my ass, squeezing hard.

But the whole time, my mind was somewhere else.

As he pulled my dress up and entered me, I closed my eyes and imagined Damian. I pictured his green eyes, his strong hands, the way he had begged me in the bathtub. Every thrust from this stranger felt empty. I moaned for show, riding him harder, but all I could think about was Damian’s thick c**k and the way he had looked at me like I was everything.

The man came fast, groaning loudly as he finished inside the condom. I faked an orgasm, moaning dramatically, then smiled at him as he tipped me generously.

By the end of the night, I was exhausted and distracted. I kept checking the entrance, hoping Damian would appear. He never did.

Maria noticed as we cleaned up later.

“You keep looking at the door,” she said quietly. “Still thinking about him?”

“No,” I lied quickly. “I’m fine.”

She didn’t believe me but didn’t push.

Back in my room, Maria was already snoring softly on her side of the bed. I lay there staring at the ceiling for a long time before I picked up my phone.

My thumb hovered over Damian’s name.

I typed:

Me: Why did you f**k Tina?

I deleted it.

I typed again:

Me: I can’t stop thinking about you.

Deleted.

I typed one last time:

Me: Come back.

I deleted it too and threw the phone aside, frustrated with myself.

ONE WEEK LATER

The club was packed again. The bass vibrated through the floor as I swayed my hips to the music, smiling at a potential client who was whispering dirty promises in my ear.

“I’ll pay double if you let me f**k you in the suite tonight,” he murmured, his hand on my waist.

I was about to reply when the air in the room seemed to shift.

I looked toward the entrance.

Damian walked in.

He wasn’t alone.

A beautiful, elegant woman was on his arm — tall, sophisticated, wearing a designer dress. She laughed at something he said, her hand resting possessively on his chest.

My stomach dropped.

He looked good. Too good. Sharp black suit, hair perfectly styled, that same intense presence that always made my body react.

Our eyes met across the crowded room.

For a second, everything stopped.

Then he looked away, whispering something to the woman beside him as they walked toward a VIP booth.