Next night.Kieran drags you into an elevator that climbs forever.Glass walls show Bangkok sprawling below — towers blinking red, streets streaked with headlights, dark alleys hiding every kind of sin.
At the top, the doors open into pure decadence.
Warm golden lights spill over marble floors. A pool stretches across the rooftop, its water catching every neon flicker.A DJ plays lazy house music. Waiters drift by with trays of cocktails.Groups of laughing girls in designer dresses cluster by the edge, phones out, flashing peace signs and pouting lips.
"This," Kieran says, sliding you a grin, "is where the real fun starts. Rich Thai brats, Korean princesses, even a few Japanese idol-types on holiday. They come here to feel dangerous."
You take a glass, swirl it, watch condensation trickle down your wrist.Your cock's already half hard just thinking about it.
It doesn't take long before you're noticed.You're taller than most of the men here, broader in the shoulders, with that foreign confidence that makes every little princess squirm.They glance your way, whisper behind manicured hands, giggle.
Then she appears.The air seems to shift around her.
She's wearing a champagne silk slip that hugs every curve, cut scandalously low, tiny diamond earrings sparkling at her throat.Her skin is flawless — pale caramel, almost glowing. Long black hair drapes down her back like a river.
When her eyes find yours, they linger.Not shy. Curious. A little arrogant.
She crosses to you slowly, each step deliberate, hips rolling under the thin silk."Farang," she purrs, her accent soft but cutting. "You're not from here."
"Is it that obvious?"You grin, sip your drink.
She laughs, a delicate bell sound."I could smell it. The way you look at people. Like… like you're hunting."
You lean close, let your breath brush her ear."Maybe I am."
She shivers. You see it run down her spine.But when she leans back, her smile is wicked.
You end up on a lounge sofa near the pool, half-hidden by draped sheer curtains.She sits close — too close for a girl like this to be with someone she's just met. Her perfume is soft white flowers, undercut by expensive champagne.
"So why are you in Bangkok?" she asks, tracing a lazy finger up your forearm.
"I work. I watch. I take pretty things apart to see how they work."
She bites her lip."What if I'm the one watching you?"
"Then I'd wonder what you're hoping to see."
It starts small.Her hand drifts to your knee. Lingers.You turn it over, lace your fingers through hers, then pull it higher — up your thigh, closer, until she's pressed right against the growing heat in your pants.
Her eyes widen.A little sharp breath. Her cheeks flush a deeper pink.
"You're dangerous," she whispers.
"You have no idea."
She doesn't pull away. Her thumb strokes you, testing, fascinated by how hard you already are.Her pupils dilate. Her lips part.
"Want to hear something dirty?" you murmur, voice low.
She nods, breath shaky.
"Last night a bar girl sucked me under the table. Didn't even hesitate. Took it all. Begged for more."
A tiny, strangled sound escapes her throat.Her thighs squeeze together. Her hand tightens on your cock through your pants.
"God, you shouldn't say things like that…" she breathes.But she's still touching you.
"So filthy," you continue. "Maybe tomorrow you'll be the one on your knees, letting everyone watch while I fuck your pretty mouth."
Her whole body trembles. Her breath comes faster.
"You know who I am?" she blurts suddenly.Her voice is high, scared. But her hand hasn't moved.
You just raise an eyebrow.
"My father is… very powerful. If he knew I was even talking like this—"
You lean in, your mouth brushing her ear."So what? That just makes it better. You're his perfect princess on the outside… and my dirty little secret here."
She lets out a tiny moan.Then her hand slides between her own thighs, pressing down. Trying to hide it, failing.
You glance around — no one's really watching. The music's louder, more people are dancing.
You hook a finger under her chin, turn her to face you fully.Then you kiss her — slow at first, just a taste of her soft lips, her startled gasp.
Then deeper. Your tongue pushes in, claims her mouth.She whimpers, melts against you, nails digging into your arm.
When you pull back, she's dazed. Her lipstick smeared, pupils huge.
"Same place tomorrow night," you say."I want to see how far your little game goes."
She bites her lip, eyes wild.Then she nods.
Kieran finds you later on the balcony, smoking.
"Was that who I think it was?" he chuckles. "Fucking hell, man. Her family basically owns half this city."
You blow out a stream of smoke."Then maybe it's time someone else owned her for a night."
Kieran laughs, claps you on the back.
Below, Bangkok sprawls out, lights glittering like bait on a hook.Tomorrow you'll have her.And you already know — by the end, she'll beg you to never let her go.