Sixty- Six.

I take one final glance at myself in the full-length mirror, inhaling a deep, shaky, long breath. Filling my lungs with enough air to prevent myself from fainting as anxiety engulfs me.

I mean, it's pretty clear that I'm not a trained exotic dancer or a runway model.

It's taking everything inside of me not to try and escape out of the damn window. I'm willing to risk my life over this. I'm afraid I've bitten off more than I can chew and Aydem is on the other side of the door, sitting on a chair waiting for me. My poor husband's probably wondering what the hell is going on.

I turn away from the mirror, the longer I stare at myself the more my anxiety climbs through the roof. My fingers wrap around the cold doorknob and I peer down at myself.

A red silk robe clings to my body like a second layer of skin. Beneath the robe, my body is encased in the skimpiest lingerie I swear Mercedes and Neriman could find.

My physique burns with an undying fire that makes my body tingle with nerves. The thought about giving Aydem a lap dance makes me delirious with desire, longing and need. I don't know why I thought this would be a fun and slow-burning seduction to drive him utterly crazy to fill me all night long with his seed.

Yet, here I stand.

My fingers wrapped around the doorknob, ready to take the plunge and knock the socks off him.

Maybe I'm crazy, maybe I'm not.

Gods!!!

He's either going to think I'm cute or he's going to want to divorce me on the spot.

There's no turning back now.

Turning the doorknob, I slowly pry the door open, revealing myself to the man who makes me want to step out of my comfort zone and prove to him that marrying me will be the best decision he's ever made.

I suck in a sharp breath.

I doubt I will ever get tired of looking at Aydem.

He is still sitting on the chair I asked him to sit on about an hour ago with his legs spread wide, elbows resting on his knees as he looks down at the carpet.

I saunter towards him, stopping right in front of him and making sure the tips of my stilettos come into his line of vision. His body goes rigid as his head slowly rises with his eyes travelling up my body until our gazes collide.

[Fuck yeah] "Siktir et evet." He breathes out in a rough, shaky breath.

He lifts his hands to touch me and before they land on my hips, I slap them.

"There are three rules, Mr Burak," I say firmly as I lift my foot and rest the tip of my stiletto against his manhood.

He gulps with a dirty smirk curving on one side of his mouth, "Lay them out bare for me, askim." [my love.] He says as he wraps both of his hands around my calf and begins to slide his hands up and down my quivering limb.

"Rule number one," I slowly begin to untie the waistbelt of my robe. "No touching," I state firmly, opening the robe.

He releases my leg, holding both of his hands up in the air. "Noted,"

"Rule number two," I slowly peel back one side of the robe, exhibiting my bare flesh. "I'm in charge."

He rubs the pad of his thumb across his lower lip, "Baby, I don't know-"

"Silence," I drop my foot, leaning down and I place my index finger over his soft lips. "Don't say a word," I order in a domineering tone.

His eyes grow wide with shock and amusement.

"No touching, I'm in charge and rule number three. No talking." I sigh, peeling the side of the robe off my shoulder and I let it fall to the carpet. "Just watch and enjoy the show." I hum.

I step away from him, swaying my hips, using the beat of my thrumming heart as my rhythm keeper. Gliding my hands over every dip and curve of my body, I moan as I reach up and cup my heavy breasts.

Desire licks my feverish skin as I begin to imagine my hands are his and it tastes filthy rich as I picture him touching, kissing, licking and groping every delicious inch of my body.

My sex begins to ache.

This little show was meant to turn him on, but it's turning me on and I won't stop.

I can't stop.

I want to give him something to always remember me by, something that will haunt him for the rest of his days with a feverish need to full pussy every chance he gets.

I turn around, wriggling my ass side to side, bending over, I drag my nails up the side of my leg and glance at him over my shoulder.

I pop my ass.

Once.

Twice.

A third time for luck.

"Do you like what you see, Mr Burak?" I coo, running my fingers through my hair as I shimmy my ass and stand upright.

I sway my hips side to side, my breasts bounce up and down. I saunter towards him, placing my hand on his shoulder and I walk around him, humming Sweet Dreams by Eurythmics.

Lost in a daze of hunger and lust. He doesn't utter a single syllable and it thrills me immensely that he is submitting to my rules of the game.

"What's wrong, baby. Cat got your tongue?" I purr, "Hmmm?" I add, licking my lips.

He lets out a little grunt, his dazzling eyes focusing on my body, locking themselves on my pebbled nipples. He readjusts his growing cock in his slacks and licks his lips.

"Bring that ass, here, right fucking now." He orders, pointing to the carpet between his legs that are spread wide open.

"Say please, Mr Burak." I titter.

[Please] "Lutfen." He begs in a strained voice.

Placing my hands on either side of his legs, I arch my back and slide my ass up and down his front. I twirl around, leaning forward and I whisper in his ear, "Do you want to play a little game, Mr Burak?" I say in a sultry tone, rubbing my breasts against his chest.

"I don't play with fire, baby." His voice is sharp like a razor slicing through thin air.

He raises his hands, intending to cup my breasts.

Fire scolds my skin as his scalding eyes mirror his touch. I slap his hand away, stepping out of his reach, I spin around and titter at him as I wave my finger at him too.

"You can not keep your naughty hands to yourself, now, can you?" I giggle. "I'm the one in control here, baby. Not you." I coo.

His fingers dig into his thighs, turning his knuckles into a ghastly shade of white and pupils blazing with a passionate hunger to be the one in charge. He lets out a brutal grunt, "Why don't you just tell me to stop fucking breathing?" He lifts his hands, ridding himself of his bow tie and jacket and tosses it on the carpet.

I let out a dramatic sigh and shake my head. "But I need you alive." I pout.

Unbuttoning the first three buttons on his shirt, a fraction of his chest peeks out. "Then stop killing me softly and get over here now." His voice is harsh, clipped and hoarse.

I swallow thickly, digging my heels into the carpet to prevent myself from running into his arms. "If you win, " I get down on all fours, looking back at him as I wiggle my ass in front of him. "I will let you act out your wildest fantasies with me." I reach behind me, moving the thin lace of my thong to the side, giving him a front-row seat of my freshly shaven pussy on full display. "You can fuck me however you want," I whisper, inserting the tip of my index finger into my anus.

A murderous growl exits his lips, the thunderous sound travels across the room and explodes upon contact as it reaches me. I bite my lower lip and remove my finger as I let out a soft moan.

"How long, askim?" [my love?] His jaw clenches. "How long is this fucking game of yours?"

I  smile, turning around and I slowly begin to crawl towards him.

I have him right where I want him and I know I'm going to win because he wants nothing more than to possess every inch of my body...