Red Confession: Flora’s Surrender in My Burning Apartment

My apartment. Dim light. Door clicks shut. Flora’s laugh echoes, husky, teasing. ‘They’ll blacklist us now.’ Her body presses mine. Heat radiates through silk dress. Weeks of torment flash: office stares, Adelya’s tease ignored, Hernan’s smug grin, Flora’s cold shoulder. Heart hammers. Pulse throbs in my throat. She eyes the sparse room, smirks. ‘Needs deco… but not for long.’ Lips crash. Tongues tangle. Hands roam. Her fingers dig nails into my neck. Skin ignites. Breath quickens. I taste salt on her lips, hunger built from jealousy, revenge fucks, empty nights. Chest heaves. Cock strains against pants. She grinds hips, moans low. ‘Move in with me?’ Whisper hot against ear. Blood roars. Fingers yank dress straps. Breasts spill free, nipples hard peaks. Suck one. Bite. She gasps, arches. Heartbeat syncs, wild drum. ‘Stagiaires? Let them fuck each other.’ Laughter turns gasp as hand slips under skirt. Wet heat. Fingers plunge. She claws back. Tension coils, unbearable. Shower. Now. Drag her there. Door slams. Water blasts hot. Steam rises. Clothes shed frantic. Naked. Bodies collide. Skin slick, burning.