The pulsing bass of the club hit them like a physical wave the moment the group pushed through the heavy black doors, neon lights in shades of electric pink and violet slicing through the haze of smoke and perfume. Kaya's laughter from the cab ride faltered as her eyes adjusted, landing on the elevated stage where two women moved with hypnotic grace—one arched backward over a pole, her oiled skin gleaming under the lights, bare breasts swaying with each slow grind, while the other knelt at the edge, spreading her thighs wide to reveal the glistening folds of her pussy as bills fluttered down like confetti. The air thickened with the scent of sweat, whiskey, and arousal, the murmur of the crowd blending into low moans from private corners.

Kaya froze, her athletic frame tensing beneath the tight black dress that hugged her curves, a flush creeping up her neck as shock warred with an unexpected spark of heat low in her belly. She wanted to turn and leave, to drag the others back into the night, but a deeper pull kept her rooted—curiosity, the thrill of shedding her polished routine for something raw and forbidden. Beside her, Ayan stood rigid, his broad shoulders squared as if bracing against a storm. The sight of Kaya here, her elegant features lit by the club's lurid glow, her lips parted in that mix of horror and reluctant hunger, shattered every memory he'd held of the sweet, charming girl next door. He never imagined her drawn to this darkness, and the realization sent a surge of forbidden lust straight to his cock, hardening against his jeans as he fought to look anywhere but at her.

"Surprise, you two—welcome to the real party!" one of their friends shouted over the music, clapping Ayan on the back, but the words barely registered. Kaya's fingers brushed his arm instinctively, seeking anchor in the chaos, and he felt the tremor in her touch, mirroring the storm in his own chest.

Before either could speak, their friends surged forward with whoops and shoves, herding them toward a dimly lit booth tucked against the stage's edge. Kaya's hand lingered on Ayan's arm as they were jostled into the narrow space, the vinyl seat forcing them thigh-to-thigh, his muscular leg pressing hot against hers beneath the thin fabric of her dress. The club's relentless bass vibrated through the booth, syncing with the rapid pulse at her throat, while the scent of her perfume mingled with his cologne and the raw musk of arousal hanging in the air. Ayan's breath caught as her knee brushed the growing bulge in his jeans, sending a jolt of heat straight to his cock, already straining with years of pent-up need for this woman he'd watched grow from the girl next door into this vibrant, untamed force.

Kaya shifted, her athletic body tense yet undeniably responsive, her dark hair cascading over one shoulder as she turned toward the stage. A dancer crawled forward on all fours, her heavy breasts swaying pendulously before she arched her back and spread her glistening pussy lips with two fingers, inviting the crowd's hungry stares. Ayan watched Kaya's reaction intently—the way her full lips parted on a soft gasp, her cheeks flushing deeper, and her thighs pressing together as if to contain the sudden throb between them. Her nipples tightened visibly against the low neckline of her dress, and he imagined the slick heat of her own folds, the forbidden taste of her that had haunted his fantasies. The tension coiled tighter with every shared breath, his hand hovering near her waist, fingers itching to trace the curve of her hip, to pull her closer and confess how long he'd craved this raw, electric proximity.

As another performer descended into their section for a private grind, the air thickened with moans and the slap of skin on skin. Kaya leaned into him instinctively, her breath warm against his neck, and

Unholy Desires