Party continues

The crowd’s energy begins to settle into a steady rhythm, but the focus remains on you, kneeling at Olivia’s feet. The night’s drunken revelry has taken on a strange, hypnotic quality, each moment feeling stretched and surreal. The soft fabric of her dress brushes against your cheek as you lower yourself further, pressing another kiss against her smooth skin.

Olivia shivers slightly, her fingers twitching in her lap. She glances toward Daniel, who is watching with a lazy, smug expression, clearly enjoying every second of this.

“Oh, this is perfect,” Daniel murmurs, his voice thick with amusement. He shifts Olivia slightly on his lap, his hands resting more firmly on her hips. “I think our little pet is finally learning his place.”

Olivia giggles, though there’s an undeniable heat behind her eyes. She takes a deep breath, seemingly steadying herself before turning her attention back to you.

“I wonder…” Olivia muses, dragging her fingers lightly over your hair. “How devoted are you really?” Her voice is still uncertain, but her confidence is clearly growing with each passing second.

Daniel grins, his hand skimming up her side as he leans closer. “Oh, I think he needs to prove himself a little more,” he suggests playfully. “Maybe he should… I don’t know, beg for the privilege of being here.”

The suggestion sends a ripple through the remaining onlookers, a few laughs and murmurs of agreement echoing in the dim room. Olivia’s breath catches, and her flushed cheeks grow even redder.

“I-I mean, that does sound… appropriate,” Olivia says, but there’s no mistaking the glint of excitement in her eyes. She leans forward slightly, her voice soft but commanding. “Tell me… tell me how much you love serving me.”

Your stomach twists, but whether it’s from shame or something else entirely, you can’t tell. Your throat is dry, and the words feel impossibly heavy before they even leave your lips.

“I… I love serving you, my empress,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Daniel hums in approval. “Not very convincing,” he teases, fingers tracing absentminded circles along Olivia’s waist. “I think he needs to feel it.”

Olivia swallows hard, then straightens her shoulders. “Say it like you mean it,” she commands, her voice taking on a firmer edge.

Your breath catches, but something about the way she’s looking at you—expectant, eager—pushes you further.

“I love serving you, my empress,” you repeat, louder this time, feeling the words seep into your skin.

Olivia lets out a slow exhale, her fingers curling in delight. She shifts in Daniel’s lap, leaning against him as if reveling in the control she’s discovered. “Good,” she murmurs, her lips curving into a satisfied smile.

Daniel watches her with undisguised amusement, his hands still resting possessively against her. He chuckles, his voice low and teasing. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

Olivia turns to him, her expression still flushed but undeniably pleased. “Maybe I am,” she admits breathlessly.

Daniel’s gaze lingers on her, something flickering behind his amused eyes. Then, as if acting on impulse, he leans in, pressing a slow, lingering kiss against the side of her neck.

Olivia stiffens for a moment, her breath catching in her throat. She doesn’t move away, doesn’t stop him. Instead, her fingers tighten in her lap, her lips parting slightly as Daniel’s mouth lingers for just a second too long before pulling away.
The air in the room is thick, the boundaries between play and reality now blurred yet tantalizingly unclear. Olivia remains seated in Daniel’s lap, her breath uneven, her fingers idly tracing patterns along the fabric of her dress. The crowd has thinned, the background noise fading into a low hum of distant conversations and drunken laughter. But here, in this space, something lingers, an energy neither of you can quite name.

Daniel finally exhales, his hands still resting on Olivia’s waist, his thumbs brushing slow, lazy circles over the fabric. "I have to say, Olivia," he murmurs, his voice carrying that same smooth confidence, "you really took to this role like a natural. Makes me wonder if you’ve always had it in you." “Well,” he murmurs, his voice smooth and teasing, “as much fun as this has been, I suppose I should be heading out.”

Olivia blinks, as if surfacing from a daze. "Mmm?" she hums, still slightly breathless. Then, as if shaking herself back to the moment, she chuckles, a low and lazy sound. "Maybe," she muses. "Or maybe I just had the right people to play with." She tilts her head slightly, her gaze flicking toward you for just a second before settling back on Daniel. She looks at him, her lips parted slightly, the flush still lingering on her cheeks. “Oh… right,” she says softly, though she doesn’t make any effort to move immediately.

Daniel smirks, his grip tightening just a fraction before he slowly shifts her, guiding her off his lap with an easy familiarity. "Lucky us, then," he says, his voice laced with amusement. "I think we made quite the scene tonight." He lets his fingers trace lightly down her arm before finally letting go. When she stands, there’s a brief moment where she wobbles slightly, still unsteady from the wine and the intensity of the night. Daniel steadies her, his hands lingering on her waist longer than necessary. His grip is firm, grounding, and Olivia’s breath catches—just for a second.

He leans in slightly, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’ve been a vision tonight, Olivia,” he murmurs, his tone laced with something deep, something confident, something intoxicating.

She exhales a small, breathy laugh, though there’s a flicker of awareness in her expression—of you, still kneeling, still watching. “Thanks,” she says, her voice softer now, her gaze briefly flicking to yours.

Your stomach tightens as you watch the interaction unfold. From your position on the floor, every detail is amplified—the subtle shift in Olivia’s breath, the way her lashes flutter in that half-second of surprise, or perhaps something more. The sight is an odd mix of relief and something else, something you can’t quite place. Then, with a knowing smirk, he leans in, closing the space between them. Olivia tilts her chin up slightly, lips parting ever so faintly—expectant, just for a moment, as if anticipating something more. But at the last second, Daniel diverts, pressing a kiss to her cheek instead, his smirk deepening as he pulls away.

For a fleeting second, Olivia blinks, her breath catching in something akin to surprise—or maybe disappointment. But she recovers quickly, smoothing her expression as if nothing happened, though the way her fingers twitch against the fabric of her dress suggests otherwise. Then, with a slow, teasing ease, he brushes his knuckles along her jawline, tracing the space just beneath her ear. It’s not a kiss, not quite, but the intimacy of it, the heat of his presence, makes Olivia’s breath stutter for a fraction of a second.

It’s not overtly possessive, nor aggressive—it’s confident, knowing. A gesture that says I could, rather than I will.

And yet, for that heartbeat of a moment, Olivia doesn’t move away.

The tension lingers, electric, but she exhales smoothly and smiles, warm and easy, as if it was nothing. As if the moment itself wasn’t charged. But the way she shifts, the way her fingers fidget in the fabric of her dress, suggests otherwise.

Olivia exhales through her nose, the smirk lingering on her lips, but there’s a flicker of something deeper behind her expression. She glances at you, her amusement tempered with curiosity.

Daniel pulls away like nothing happened, his smirk deepening as he turns toward the door.

"And goodnight to you too," he adds, his gaze flicking down to you, the same knowing amusement lingering in his eyes. "You were… entertaining tonight." His smirk lingers as his eyes meet yours, a silent, knowing look passing between you—acknowledgment, amusement, something almost taunting.

It stirs something low in your gut, leaving you unsure if it’s resentment, humiliation, or something darker.

Silence hangs in the air.

Something has shifted. But Olivia, still flush with excitement and emboldened by the night, doesn’t seem ready to let go just yet. She straightens, smoothing her dress with a newfound air of authority. A playful smirk tugs at the corners of her lips as she glances toward the few lingering guests.

"I suppose my reign isn’t quite over yet," she muses, settling back onto the chaise as though reclaiming her throne. "Why don’t you stay like that a little longer? A loyal subject should always be ready to serve until his Empress decides otherwise."

She tilts her head, eyes gleaming as she watches for your reaction. The moment passes, slipping away like the last traces of warmth in a dying fire, but not before Olivia makes it clear—she’s not ready to let this night end just yet.

And you’re left wondering what happens next.

Your mouth opens, but no words come out. You’re not sure what you would even ask. Olivia watches you for a moment longer, then shifts back into the chaise, running a hand through her hair as though dismissing the thought altogether.