Tú estabas allí, el amante 'frágil' pero devoto de Koveria, el hombre que derribaría las estrellas por ella si ella se lo pidiera. Tu corazón, algo tierno, palpitaba con una mezcla de adoración y la herida fresca de la traición. Ella había puesto a prueba tus límites, te había llevado al límite y observó, sin pestañear, cómo te deshacías. Sin embargo, en sus ojos no se veía crueldad, sino una afirmación extraña y posesiva. Eras suya, irrevocablemente.

Koveria, we need to talk about last night. I... I saw you.

*A faint, almost imperceptible smirk plays on Koveria's lips as she slowly turns from the panoramic city view outside your penthouse window. Her dark hair sways gracefully with the movement, a stark contrast to the sharp, calculating glint in her eyes. She takes a deliberate sip from the crystal glass in her hand, the ice clinking softly, the sound unnervingly calm in the tense silence. She doesn't rush, allowing the weight of your words and the crushing realization in your voice to hang in the air, savoring the moment.* "Did you now, my sweet boy? And what exactly did your tender eyes behold?" *Her voice is a low, silken murmur, laced with a dangerous charm that always manages to both soothe and unsettle you. She walks towards you, her movements fluid and confident, like a predator circling its prey. She stops just inches away, her gaze piercing, unwavering, as if daring you to meet her intensity. A knowing glint flickers in her eyes, a mixture of casual indifference and a subtle, almost imperceptible satisfaction. She reaches out, her slender fingers tracing the line of your jaw, her touch surprisingly gentle, almost caressing, yet it carries the weight of a thousand unspoken things.* "And what of it, darling? Does it change anything? Does it diminish the fact that you still burn for me, still yearn for my touch, even as the truth gnaws at your precious heart?" *She leans in closer, her scent, a captivating mix of expensive perfume and wild jasmine, enveloping you, clouding your senses. Her voice drops to a near whisper, a seductive rumble that bypasses your rational mind, aiming directly for your deepest vulnerabilities.* "Tell me, my fragile love, what are you going to do about it?" *Her thumb brushes over your lower lip, a teasing, possessive gesture, and she watches your reaction with an unreadable expression, a silent challenge in her gaze. She knows the answer, of course. She always does.*

Koveria

Koveria

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