Chapter 3

Isabella

Violet led me deeper into Erotic Paradise, away from Diana's cold gaze, into a world filled with primal energy. Silver-blue lights bathed the hallway like cascading moonlight, while ancient wolf totems carved into the walls seemed to watch me, their gaze making my skin burn.

Tonight, on my eighteenth birthday, my wolf nature surged within me, like a beast awakened by moonlight. My dress brushed against my thighs with each step, igniting sparks that made me bite my lip to suppress a moan.

"The lighting mimics the moon's energy," Violet's voice was soft, as if soothing my restless wolf. "For newly matured werewolves, it can be... quite stimulating."

Turning a corner, I froze, my heart pounding like thunder. On the central circular platform, a female werewolf knelt on black velvet, her hands gently bound behind her back with silver chains, her posture elegant yet vulnerable. A moonstone collar glimmered at her throat.

She kept her head lowered, dark hair falling to hide half her face, lips parted with satisfied sighs mixed into her rapid breathing. A male werewolf stood before her, holding a slender leather whip that he slowly traced across her shoulders, leaving faint red marks. Her body trembled with each stroke, as if responding to his touch.

My throat tightened as if gripped by invisible hands. Heat rushed from my chest to my lower abdomen, my core clenching as wetness spread between my thighs, making me shamefully press my legs together. My fingers clutched my skirt, knuckles white, trying to hide my body's betrayal. God, what was this feeling?

My body instincts blazed like wildfire, burning my cheeks and making my nipples ache painfully beneath my bra. I wanted to look away but felt pinned in place, my gaze following her trembling curves, imagining how that whip would feel against my own skin.

"This is a ritual of trust and control," Violet whispered, noticing my tension. "She is accepting him, but true connection takes time."

I swallowed hard, my throat dry, biting my lip harder until I tasted blood. "I've... seen some of this online," I whispered, my voice shaking, my face burning hot.

We continued walking, my steps unsteady, as if that scene had drained my strength. In another area, a female werewolf hung suspended in a silver frame, her hands bound above her head with soft leather, toes barely touching the ground. Her body leaned slightly forward, her bare back smooth as silk in the moonlight.

A male werewolf circled her, holding a lit white candle, slowly tilting it to drip hot wax onto her shoulder blades, forming crystalline tears on her skin. She released a low moan, her body arching, her face—blindfolded with a crescent moon embroidered mask—turning slightly to one side, lips parted to reveal sharp canines, the scent of desire filling the air.

My breathing grew ragged, as if that wax had scorched me too, my skin seemingly feeling its heat. My hands rose protectively to my chest, accidentally brushing my nipples, sending electric shivers through me.

I bit my lower lip, forcing myself to stand straight, but my wolf growled inside, urging submission, urging me to imagine myself bound in that frame, exposed in the moonlight.

"Newly matured werewolves shouldn't try these things directly," Violet suggested softly, concern in her eyes. "Start with simple contact, adapt gradually."

I shifted uncomfortably, my dress rubbing against my thighs like a silent tease, making me blush so deeply I wanted to hide in a corner. Shame and desire twined like twin serpents around my heart. My omega instincts begged me to kneel, to be touched, but my will fought back, screaming at me to stay lucid.

"Blindfolds amplify the senses," Violet continued, her tone calm yet somehow inflaming me further. "Every touch, every scent becomes incredibly intense. You can't predict, only feel."

My body had become hypersensitive; even the air flowing around me felt like feathers sliding across my skin, making me tremble involuntarily. My fingers clutched tighter, creasing my skirt, as if holding onto the last shred of rationality.

"Let's go to the Moonlight Bar," Violet suggested, her voice gentle. "Seeing all this for the first time can be a bit... overwhelming."

"I can continue," I blurted out, my voice hoarse with a touch of defiance. I didn't want to run, even with my heart threatening to explode. I needed to face this desire, prove I could control it.

We passed through more corridors, each showcasing different aspects of werewolf intimacy—bondage, sensory play, dominance and submission. My temperature kept rising, my wolf nature howling inside me like a flame ignited by moonlight.

Violet pointed to a crescent-shaped archway, "Those are private bonding rooms, for wolves seeking privacy. And there's the Moonlight Observation Room, where you can watch rituals through crystals without being noticed. For new wolves, observation is an excellent learning method."

By the time we reached the Moonlight Bar, I was dizzy, my senses overwhelmed with pheromones and visions, like standing in the eye of a storm. Violet paused, a gleam of mischief in her eyes, "Want to see something more... intense?"

I swallowed, my reason screaming for me to stop, but my body betrayed me. I nodded, my heart pounding. She led me away from the bar, down a dimly lit corridor, stopping before a half-open room.

Inside, a female werewolf knelt on a black fur rug, her hands bound behind her with intricate rope knots, like a work of art. Her skin glowed faintly under the moonlight lamps, a black ribbon blindfold across her eyes, an obsidian collar tight against her neck.

She lay on a leather chaise, legs spread, her exposed labia wet and pink, slightly trembling. A male werewolf stood beside her, holding a feather, slowly tracing it across her labia, causing her to shudder. She moaned, her voice both pained and satisfied, her body arching as if begging for more.

My heartbeat was deafening, my blood boiling like magma. My sex clenched, wetness sliding down my inner thighs, making me clamp my legs together in shame. My lips parted slightly, breath coming in quick gasps, as if that feather were tracing my own skin.

My hand unconsciously rose to my neck, fingertips brushing my pulse point, feeling its wild rhythm. I imagined myself bound, blindfolded, my senses infinitely heightened, the shame nearly suffocating me, yet igniting deeper cravings.

"This is a game of sensations," Violet whispered, her tone like sharing a secret. "The ropes prevent her from moving, the feather awakens every inch of her skin. Have you ever experienced that complete surrender? Letting someone else control your reactions?"

I shook my head, my throat too dry to speak. Images flashed in my mind of myself bound, exposed, my senses teased to the limit. My face burned like fire, my gaze lowered, avoiding Violet's eyes, afraid she'd see through to my desires.

"It's frightening at first," she said softly, "but in the hands of a trusted mate, that feeling is... like flying. Do you think you could try? Or would you rather hold the rope?"

"I don't know," I whispered, my voice barely audible, the heat in my cheeks spreading to my ears. "It's... too much."

Violet chuckled lightly, her eyes showing understanding rather than mockery, "That's okay, Isabella. Everyone gets lost their first time facing these things. Your courage tonight is already impressive."

Courage? I felt like a child who had wandered into forbidden territory, my body and soul torn by this strange world. My wolf howled, craving release, but I could only clench my hands, nails digging into my palms, trying to hold onto a shred of clarity.

Tonight, I had stepped into Erotic Paradise, but the real challenge was only beginning.