Page 40 of F*ckboys

He cuts straight to the chase. I appreciate his bluntness.

Me: Neither.Devereux Hotel. One hour.

The Devereux is an elegant boutique hotel on the other side of the city. I feel like doing something a bit more upscale this time.

Netflixandchillwyou: Works for me.

I shoot him a final message.

Me: You better be ready for me. I'm in charge tonight and anything goes. Do you understand?

Netflixandchillwyou: Sounds exciting. I'm in.

My pulse quickens as I prepare myself for the encounter. My heart races, my mind already running through all the ways I'll exert my power over the man. He doesn't know exactly what he's getting into, but I do—and I am more than ready.

"Control. Dominance. Power." I repeat these words like a mantra as I slip into my tight black dress and matching red-bottomed heels. I add a slick of bright red lipstick and blackwinged eyeliner that make me feel sexy and strong. I need this. I will have it.

I glance in the mirror one more time and smile at my reflection. If looks could kill, tonight I'd be an assassin. "Let's do this," I whisper to myself, stepping out of my condo with confidence and determination. Aksel King may haunt my thoughts, but tonight, he'll be nothing more than a memory as I take back control and remind myself who the hell I am—Fallon fucking Dempsey.

I stride into the dimly lit lobby of the Devereux Hotel, my stiletto heels clicking against the marble floor. I never enjoy wearing heels, but sometimes they come in handy, especially for nights like tonight. The chandelier above casts a sinister glow on the opulent surroundings, but I barely notice. My thoughts race, focusing solely on the night ahead.

"Room 237," I murmur to myself, heading towards the elevator. As the doors close behind me, I take a deep breath and steel my resolve. This is what I need—control, dominance, power. Tonight, it's all mine for the taking.

The door to room 237 swings open, revealing the man from the dating app standing there in a plain white T-shirt and baggy jeans, his curly hair tied back in a slightly disheveled man bun. He grins nervously at me as I enter, and his smile crinkles the corner of his eyes and reveals dimples on both cheeks. I can't help but smirk back. He's adorable, and he has no idea what he's in for.

"Hi, Fallon," the man says, his gaze appreciatively traveling over my body. "You look as hot as you did in your pictures, even moreso actually. My name is Bun, by the way."

Of course his name is Bun. I wonder which came first, his name or his hairstyle.

"Of course I do." I snap back, not interested in pleasantries. "I have no concern for your name or any other personalinformation. Now strip." His jaw drops as I push him backward into the room and let the door click closed behind us.

I turn and latch the security lock, and then toss him a black mask from my purse, and he fumbles before catching it. "Put this on and then take off your fucking clothes."

"Okay," he replies hesitantly, turning the mask over in his hands in surprise before slipping it over his head. It covers his eyes and leaves only his mouth exposed. I'll have time to see his cute face later, but for now I need to show him who's in charge.

As he undresses, I let my gaze roam over his body, taking in every inch of his lean but muscular form. So different from Aksel's towering frame, and yet, my desire burns just as fiercely in my hunger for a casual connection. When he removes his underwear, a smile passes over my lips. The man may be on the shorter side, but he's packing, girthy. I'm going to have some fun with him.

"Get on the bed. Lie on your back. Hands above your head," I command, watching as he obeys without question. I feel a thrill run through me at the sight of him lying there, vulnerable and completely at my mercy. I've chosen well.

Retrieving silk ties from my purse, I secure each of his wrists and then his ankles to the bedposts.

The dim light casts shadows across the hotel room, highlighting his muscular form as he lies bound on the bed. I stand at the foot of the bed, taking a moment to admire my handiwork.

"Please," he whispers, his voice barely audible as I move toward him. "I want you."

"I'll decide if and when that happens."

"Oh—okay?" he says nervously.

"So, you're lying on a bed, tied up, wearing a mask, at the mercy of a complete stranger. Is this what you wanted?" I ask, my voice cold and authoritative.

"Y-yes, I didn't know it until now but yes," he stammers, anticipation and arousal dripping from every syllable.

"Good," I reply, stalking toward him with predatory grace. My hands run over the lengths of the silk ties binding him, ensuring they're secure. I won't tolerate any interruptions tonight—not when I need this encounter to satisfy my craving for control.

"You'll get what I give you," I reply sharply, my fingers trailing down his chest. "And you'll thank me for it," I add, making sure my fingers dig in just enough to leave thick pink lines down his torso. I don't wait for a response as I slip off my dress and then climb onto the bed and straddle his hips, still wearing my black lace panties, feeling his hardness beneath me and reveling in the power I hold over him.

"Thank you," he breathes out, and I smirk at his eagerness.

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