𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐃𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐒 | HAN LUE

𝟕𝟎 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️

Was it wrong to indulge in something so contrary to her usual beliefs?

Was it wrong to embrace something that brought her joy, even if only fleetingly?

These questions nagged at Frankie's conscience as she contemplated the gravity of her actions.

For the first time in a long while, she was allowing herself to experience happiness outside the confines of her tumultuous relationship with Han.

She grappled with the fear of judgment and ridicule from others, especially considering the unconventional nature of her newfound happiness.

It was a departure from the norm, a deviation from the expectations placed upon her. But deep down, she knew she couldn't let the opinions of others dictate her choices.

Tonight marked a significant departure from the familiar patterns of her past.

For the first time in nearly fifteen years, she was willingly engaging in intimate relations with someone other than Han.

It wasn't out of spite or a desire for revenge; it was a genuine expression of her own desires and needs.

As she pondered these thoughts, a realization dawned upon her: perhaps her preconceived notions of soulmates and true love were misguided.

Maybe, just maybe, her soulmate wasn't who she had always believed them to be.

Their journey from neighbours to friends had brought them to this moment, where he found himself utterly captivated by her presence as she perched on the edge of his bed in that striking red dress.

The garment seemed to possess a magnetic pull, enticing him with its allure throughout the entire evening.

If it weren't for the exorbitant price tag, he might have been tempted to tear it from her body in a fit of desire.

Frankie's eyes communicated a silent invitation as he drew nearer, his hands reaching out to meet hers as he shed his blazer jacket, a luxurious Armani piece that landed forgotten on the floor.

The fabric of his white silk shirt strained against his well-built frame, unable to contain the sinewy muscles beneath.

With each movement, he seemed more akin to a finely tuned machine, exuding an aura of strength and power that left her breathless.

The idea of intimacy with him sent shivers down her spine, a mixture of excitement and apprehension swirling within her mind.

Could she handle the intensity of their connection?

"Do you desire this as much as I do?" she murmured, her fingers deftly unfastening each button of his shirt with deliberate slowness, her gaze meeting his through the veil of her long lashes.

"Yeah, I believe I do," he responded with a smirk, his hands moving to undo his cufflinks and roll up his sleeves.

"Will you be gentle with me? Or should I brace myself for a whirlwind?"

Her query drew a furrowed brow from him as she reached the final button, his gaze fixed on her as she traced her fingers over the contours of his torso.

The sculpted muscles beneath his skin hinted at a rigorous fitness routine, perhaps maintained through countless hours of dedication.

She felt a lump form in her throat as she gazed up at him, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Shall we quicken the pace?"

Her lips, painted a bold shade of red, made contact with his stomach, trailing tantalizingly close to the fabric of his belt.