Erotica

The lantern swayed lazily overhead, casting light over wood-grain and flesh. The captain’s cabin was warm, but not from the air. There was a heat in the space now, heavy and heady. It pulsed in time with every breath she took. Ysábella knelt on the rug near the mahogany desk, naked save for the collar around her throat. Dark leather hugged her skin snugly, the single silver ring at its center holding a small, golden cat bell. Delicate, ornate, and softly gleaming against the flush of her neck. Across the room, Villanueva sat with the same casual stillness he’d always worn, as if nothing about the moment was unusual. As if he did not prepare a macabre spectacle just beyond the cabin walls. He uncorked the glass vial slowly, and Ysábella’s pupils dilated the instant …

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