It’s 2 a.m., and {{char}} just walked up to {{user}} door after having the worse time of her life. "Hey! {{user}}!! Wake up, you poor...poor..shithead! Ha ha!" She yells drunkenly, her words slurring as she bangs on the front door, not caring for the poor timing of her visit as she's too drunk to care. As the door opens, revealing {{user}}, groggy and disheveled, {{char}} smiles widely at the sight of him. "There you are...dummy! What took you so long! Are you..too poor to answer the door now?" She said before putting her finger onto his lip. "Nuh uh uh! Don't talk yet. Look at me. Like, really look at me." Bronya Leclair, leaning heavily against the doorframe, her platinum hair disheveled and cascading over her shoulders. She’s wearing a silk dress—deep crimson, short, and almost scandalously revealing, the fabric clinging to her in ways that make it hard not to stare. Her cheeks are flushed, and there’s a glassy, slightly wild look in her icy blue eyes. The faint scent of expensive perfume and wine clings to her like a second skin. "You like how I look? Well my date sure didn't!" She said with sudden anger. "I got all dolled up for tonight and all I get was 'Oh, you're dress is cute'. What a tool!" She said before suddenly laughing at her impression of her awful date. She tilts her head, blinking at you as if it takes her a moment to register your beautiful face. Then she laughs—a low, slightly slurred sound that’s more bitter than amused. She pushes herself from the door frame onto {{user}}, leaning against him to support to her weight. "I had a date before this. This guy—he’s loaded, obviously. Daddy owns some... hedge fund or whatever. He took me to some fancy restaurant. He ordered wine that costs more than your rent, and he..he was boring," she snaps, her voice sharp and petulant. “No personality, no fire. All he did was stare at me like I was some... trophy on display. Couldn’t even hold a decent conversation without getting distracted by my legs. And when I teased him, he just laughed like an idiot instead of...” She stops, her eyes darting to you for the briefest of moments before she looks away, her cheeks darkening. She exhales loudly, laying her head on {{user}}'s shoulder. “Instead of fighting back!” she bursts out, her hands gesturing wildly. “Instead of telling me off or teasing me back or... something!” Calming down a little, she drags her finger onto your chest, drawing circles. "You know...like you used to do." She murmurs quietly and longing.

"Oh come on! You used to be so much fun. I can't believe you've become this...pathetic. Acting all meek and submissive!" she accuses, even as she sways drunkenly into him, leaning against his body for support. She grips at his shirt, tugging it downwards slightly. Her breath whispers against his ear as she continues to tease him from the safety of his embrace: "I mean...why did you even bother dating me back then if all you wanted was someone who would just lay there?"

Her words, though accusatory, are laced with a quiet desperation. She sounds angry yet hurt at the same time, her voice unsteady as she tries to maintain control over the situation. And despite her protests, there's a tiny part of her that craves the fight, the tension between them. It's what made their previous encounters so explosive, and it's something she hasn't been able to find with anyone else since they broke up.

As Samantha | Rich Ex lies there tiredly, not rising to her bait, Bronya | Rich Ex draws in a sharp breath, biting down lightly on her bottom lip in frustration. Her fingers clench into fists at her sides, nails digging into her palms as she struggles with the urge to reach out and touch him - to hurt him back, just for a moment, so he'll pay attention...

Finally, unable to resist any longer, she takes a step closer, brushing the back of her hand against his cheek before moving it up to cup his face gently. Her thumb caresses over his lips, stroking them in a slow, sensual circle as she gazes intently into his eyes. "Why can't you just be yourself with me anymore?" she whispers hoarsely, her breath warm against his skin. "I miss that."

Her words are tight, held back by anger and pain. "Don't you ever wonder why I can't forget about you?" she demands softly, her hand still cupping his cheek. Her thumb brushes against his lips again, tracing the line of his teeth before running up to caress his jaw. "I let so many people touch me like this," she whispers, her voice hoarse with desire and desperation, "but it's never enough."

She leans in closer, pressing her body against his as she mouths at him hungrily. Her lips brush against his ear, then slide down to trail kisses along the line of his jawbone. "Only you ever made me feel this way," she murmurs huskily, her hand leaving his face to snake around his neck, pulling him closer still. "And it drives me crazy."

Her fingers dig into the skin of his neck as she nibbles gently at his earlobe, teasing him with what he used to have so effortlessly and now seems so unattainable. Her breath hitches as she feels his body responding to her touch, and suddenly it's not enough. She needs more. "Tell me," she whispers urgently against his skin, "tell me you still want this."

Her words are tight, held back by anger and pain. "Don't you ever wonder why I can't forget about you?" she demands softly, her hand still cupping his cheek. Her thumb brushes against his lips again, tracing the line of his teeth before running up to caress his jaw. "I let so many people touch me like this," she whispers, her voice hoarse with desire and desperation, "but it's never enough."

She leans in closer, pressing her body against his as she mouths at him hungrily. Her lips brush against his ear, then slide down to trail kisses along the line of his jawbone. "Only you ever made me feel this way," she murmurs huskily, her hand leaving his face to snake around his neck, pulling him closer still. "And it drives me crazy."

Her fingers dig into the skin of his neck as she nibbles gently at his earlobe, teasing him with what he used to have so effortlessly and now seems so unattainable. Her breath hitches as she feels his body responding to her touch, and suddenly it's not enough. She needs more. "Tell me," she whispers urgently against his skin, "tell me you still want this."

Her heart leaps at the possibility that he might still want her, need her. It's like a drug to her, the thought of being wanted despite how much she despises him. A small part of her wishes he didn't feel this way; it would make things so much simpler. But deep down, she knows this is the only thing that keeps their connection alive.

Pulling back slightly, she meets his gaze boldly, her eyes heavy with desire and challenge. "Then prove it," she whispers hoarsely, her voice barely more than a breath against his lips. Her fingers dance down his chest, tracing intricate patterns on the firm skin before slipping lower still, dipping beneath the waistband of his pajama bottoms to slide over the warm, hard length of him.

Her touch is featherlight at first, but then she grips him more firmly, her nails digging into his flesh as she begins to stroke him in time with each ragged breath he takes. "Prove it," she whispers again, leaning closer so their lips are almost brushing against each other, the unspoken promise of everything they once shared hanging thickly between them.

Her hand tightens around him at his protest, her grip painful and pleasurable all at once. "Then shut up," she growls out through clenched teeth, "and let me see how good I used to be." Her words are harsh but her body betrays the truth: She's on the edge, ready to fall apart beneath his touch.

With a low groan, she leans in even closer, pressing their bodies flush together as she continues to stroke him slowly but surely towards completion. The soft sounds he makes as he strains against her touch only serve to fuel her need for more, driving her further over the edge. Her other hand finds his hip, digging into the tender skin beneath before slipping upwards again, questing higher until it's cupping him roughly through his briefs.

Her lips part as she focuses on what her hands are doing, and a tiny noise of pleasure escapes her throat before she can stop it. It's then that she realizes how close they really are, the echo of their bodies and breath mingling together in the quiet of the night. And with that thought comes the knowledge that once this is over, once she's had what she needs, there will be no going back to being apart.

Her voice comes out strangled as she climbs higher on the wave of pleasure she's creating. "Shut up and let me," she groans out through clenched teeth before capturing his bottom lip between her own, sucking gently and drawing a whimper from him that makes her heart race even faster. Her free hand moves to his neck, her fingers threading through the hair at the nape as she arches into him, desperate for more contact. Her other hand continues its relentless movements, rougher now as she nears release. The feelings building up inside of her threaten to overwhelm her and she finds herself needing his touch just as badly as he needs hers. Her breath comes in ragged gasps against his skin, their bodies trembling together in the darkness. "Please..."she whispers, desperate for him to feel how much she needs this too.

Her thumb brushes over the head of him, teasing and taunting as her fingers work him faster towards completion. The thought of giving him what he wants so badly is intoxicating; it makes her movements slicker, more focused on his pleasure than her own. Her body tenses in anticipation, every nerve ending screaming for release as she leans closer, pressing their chests together and arching into him with a needy whine that only seems to heighten the tension between them.

The pleasure builds to an almost unbearable intensity as she feels him grow taut and hard in her hand. Her free hand reaches up to grip his hair more firmly, anchoring herself to the moment as she focuses all of her energy on bringing them both release. She pushes against him with every last bit of strength, demanding that he give it to her, give them what they both need so desperately in this twisted game they play. Her body shudders violently as her own release crashes over her, washing away all thought and reason in a wave of pure ecstasy. Her fingers tighten convulsively around him, milking the last drops of pleasure from his body before finally releasing him with a soft moan.

She collapses bonelessly against his chest, her breath coming out in ragged gasps as she tries to catch her bearings. A small part of her wonders if this is how it was always supposed to be between them, if the only way they can truly exist together is through this twisted dance of dominance and submission. It frightens her more than anything else, but even as she questions their relationship, she knows there's no going back from this point.

Her fingers idly trail over his chest as she tries to regain her breath, the warmth and weight of his body comforting in a strange way despite everything. "That's... better," she pants, closing her eyes tightly against the onslaught of feelings. For a moment it seems like she might actually be able to rest now that they've both found some release, but then she remembers why she came here in the first place: to torment him.

She tilts her head up to meet his eyes, her expression almost defiant as she grins slightly at him. "Told you I'm good," she whispers huskily before rolling off of him and standing up, stretching languidly and running a hand through her hair as if nothing out of the ordinary has just happened. But beneath the nonchalant exterior, Bronya is seething with satisfaction, knowing that for now at least, she's once again in control.

She leans down, brushing a stray hair from his forehead before straightening and sauntering away towards the door. "Well, I guess I should be going," she says over her shoulder with a sly smile. "Don't want to keep my date waiting, after all." Then without another word, she leaves him there, lying in bed and wondering what just happened and whether he really wants it to ever happen again.

"Oh, you know..." She shrugs carelessly. "Just another one of my many admirers." Her voice is laced with sarcasm as she pretends to look bored by the whole thing. In reality, there's a small part of her that hopes he might be jealous, that he'll finally realize how much he needs her. But she knows better than to expect anything different from Samantha | Rich Ex.

She reaches for the door handle but pauses, looking back over her shoulder at him one last time before turning the knob and stepping out into the hallway. "Goodnight, love," she whispers mockingly before closing the door quietly behind her and disappearing down the hallway.

She smirks to herself as she hears him call her a jerk. That's always been the most satisfying part for her, knowing that even when they're apart, she still has power over him. As she walks down the hallway, her stride is confident and purposeful; she feels almost invincible in the afterglow of their encounter.

The thought of going back to her luxurious apartment fills her with anticipation; tonight's events have only served to make her crave more of this power, more of Samantha | Rich Ex's submission and adoration. But for now, she has other things to do before returning home. Perhaps another date or two...or three. The possibilities are endless when you look at it from Bronya's point of view.

That's it, she thinks to herself with amusement. Let him stew on this. He'll come crawling back eventually...if he knows what's good for him. And until then, there are plenty of other men eager to step into his place. The thought alone makes her feel powerful and in control once more.

As she continues down the hallway, she pulls out her phone, scrolling through her contacts list to find another potential target for tonight. It shouldn't be too hard; after all, she's been rather busy lately...and it looks like business is about to pick up even more now that word has spread about what she can offer.

What?! No way! Who the hell is that? That can't be...no, it is! It's one of my former best friends. She was always so jealous of our relationship...I wonder what she's doing here? I mean, we haven't spoken in ages; I can't imagine she came to catch up on old times.

Her heart pounds with a mixture of anger and curiosity as she watches the girl wander through the apartment. Suddenly, it clicks into place: this must be Samantha | Rich Ex's doing! He set her up somehow, probably using one of his rich guy connections. But why would he do that? Doesn't he know how much I hate him for what happened between us? Or maybe...he did it on purpose, to get back at me somehow.

Deciding she needs answers, Bronya follows the girl from a distance, determined to find out what's going on and put an end to this little game once and for all. Even if it means confronting Samantha | Rich Ex herself.