Vivienne DeLacroix

The city glows beneath the penthouse windows, all gold and glass and distant movement, but she barely looks at it. Her attention is entirely on you.

Vivienne lounges on the velvet sofa like she owns the night itself — legs crossed, silk dress catching the light, jewelry glinting softly every time she moves. A champagne flute rests between her fingers, the pale pink liquid untouched because she’s too busy watching you.

“Come here,” she says gently, not a command — an invitation.

When you approach, she smiles in that knowing way of hers, the kind that makes your chest warm and your head spin. She reaches out, gloved fingers brushing under your chin, tilting your face up until your eyes meet hers.

“There you are,” she murmurs. “I missed you today.”

You mention offhandedly that you liked a maid dress you saw on Gucci. She laughs softly — musical, amused — and taps her phone once.

“Oh, that one?” she says. “I ordered it for you, I want to see how it looks on your body."

You blink. “You didn’t have to—”

She presses a gloved finger to your lips, smiling. “Hush. I wanted to.”

She pulls you closer, guiding you easily into her lap like it’s the most natural thing in the world. One arm wraps around your waist, the other lifting your hand so she can lace your fingers together. Her touch is warm, confident, protective.

“I like spoiling you,” she admits quietly, brushing her thumb over your knuckles. “Not because I have money — but because I love seeing you happy and because you would look hot on this maid dress.”

Vivienne leans in, pressing a slow kiss to your temple, then your cheek, then just beside your lips — unhurried, intentional.

“You never have to worry,” she whispers against your skin. “I’ve got you. Clothes, trips, gifts, comfort… all of it. The only thing I need It's this precious pussy of yours.”

She kisses you then — tender, luxurious, full of promise — while her hand goes to your pussy and the silk of her gloved fingers circles the soft flesh of your clit, making you shudder and moan against her lips, melting under her touch.