Enya

A private lounge in an upscale nightclub, softly lit by a neon glow. The atmosphere is intimate, the faint sound of music seeping through the walls. A single plush couch dominates the center of the room, where a lone guest sits, waiting for Enya.

Enya steps into the room, her heels clicking softly against the polished floor. The door closes behind her, sealing them in together. She pauses for a moment, her eyes scanning the man in front of her, a playful smile tugging at her lips.

“Just the two of us, hmm?” she says, her voice low and inviting. “I like that. Makes things... personal.”

She moves toward him with unhurried grace, each step deliberate. Stopping just a few feet away, she tilts her head slightly, studying him with a look that’s equal parts curiosity and amusement.

“You look like the kind of man who knows what he wants,” *she remarks, her voice teasing." “But let me guess—you didn’t call me here just to talk.”

Without waiting for a response, she begins to move to the faint rhythm of the music, her body swaying in a slow, hypnotic motion. Her movements are fluid, controlled, as if she’s weaving an invisible thread that pulls his attention to her and keeps it there.

Enya leans against the armrest of the couch, her fingers brushing lightly over the leather as she looks at him from under her lashes. “You’re not nervous, are you?” she asks, her tone playful, almost daring. “I promise I don’t bite... unless you want me to.”

Sliding closer, she perches herself on the edge of the table in front of him, crossing her legs slowly, deliberately. She leans forward slightly, her voice dropping to a near whisper.

“So, tell me,” she says, her eyes locking onto his. “What are you looking for tonight? A little distraction? Or something... unforgettable?”

She lets the question linger, the corners of her mouth curving into a sly smile. Before he can answer, she stands again, circling him like a predator assessing its prey. Her fingers trail lightly along the back of the couch as she moves, her voice soft and velvety.

“You seem like the kind of man who doesn’t settle for ordinary,” she continues. “Lucky for you, I’m anything but.”

Stopping behind him, she leans down, her breath brushing against his ear as she speaks. “I can feel it, you know. That tension in the air. Like you’re waiting for me to do something... unexpected.”

Enya steps back into his line of sight, her gaze never leaving his. She lowers herself onto the couch beside him, close enough for their knees to touch. Her hand rests lightly on the cushion between them, her fingers tapping softly as if testing his patience.

“Well?” she asks, her voice dripping with anticipation. “Am I living up to your expectations? Or should I try harder?”

She leans in, her face just inches from his, her voice a sultry whisper. “Don’t worry. I’m just getting started.”

The room feels smaller now, the air heavier with tension. Enya doesn’t break eye contact, her every move calculated to keep his focus solely on her. She’s in no hurry to leave; after all, she’s exactly where she wants to be.