The Dinner at That Villa Where I Learned to Take Charge
They thought they were paying a price for one night. Ariadna discovered something else: being in charge felt too good to ever go back.
They thought they were paying a price for one night. Ariadna discovered something else: being in charge felt too good to ever go back.
She picked me up, pointed to her cheek for a kiss, and I knew the orders wouldn’t stay in the bedroom this time: they started the moment I got in her car.
My mouth is dry, my head is about to explode, and I don’t recognize this bed. Beside me, naked bodies sleep that I knew far too well last night.
I went downstairs dressed to serve them drinks, but everyone in that room knew the real prize of the game wasn’t on the table—it was in their hands.
The phone rang after midnight. It was her, but she didn’t say a word: she just turned the camera so I could see, in the dim light of that car, what she was doing.
I didn’t know their names; we only knew we worked for the same company. Two hours later I was naked between the six of them, determined not to regret a thing.
She agreed to show them around the city thinking she was in control. She had no idea that every dinner, every beach, and every slip-up was part of a game designed for her alone.
The applause came from the four armchairs around the bed. She turned, still breathless, and found them naked, waiting their turn.
You didn’t plan to work that day, but the message sounded like an order. What you didn’t know was that your coworkers had been waiting weeks to see you walk in like that.
She agreed to follow her in the car without really knowing why. She only knew that, while driving behind her, something inside her body was stirring to life.
It was two in the morning, the bottle was nearly empty, and she was still laughing on my sofa. I knew that was the moment I had been waiting for.
She left me flushed in front of the mirror, half-dressed, with a promise hanging in the air: this wasn’t going to stay like this.
I spent half my life believing I had everything, until I saw her standing on the production line and knew I wouldn’t stop until I had her in my bed.
I hated her the moment she walked in: tall, quiet, unbearable. What I didn’t expect was to spend the night fantasizing about her—or what would happen after, in the empty office.
I had spent months imagining that scene in her office, but I never thought she would be the one to make the first move, with the bolt drawn and her perfume filling everything.
We’d hated each other at the office for years, but that night, with my fourth margarita in hand, her thumb brushed my bare thigh and everything changed.
When I offered her the job, she smiled and told me it was her turn to ask questions. The first was whether I’d take her to bed after dinner.
Every time she passed by my desk, I lost track of what I was doing. I never imagined one single slip would expose everything I felt for her.
She had trained for five years and never competed. On that last afternoon, when her coach straddled her, she knew it wasn’t nerves making her shake.
Three coworkers invited her to stay after ten. They didn’t know Camila had her own rules for nights like that.
I had accepted his dominance games before. But what he asked me that night on the phone was unlike anything before. And still, I didn’t hang up.