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The hour was close to midnight when Corven turned the heavy black key in the shop door. The city outside was silent, swallowed by fog and shadow, the only light the pale moon grinning down from between broken clouds. The ancient bell above the entrance gave a single, echoing chime—a sound that seemed to ripple through the cobbled streets and draw every unseen gaze toward the crooked sign overhead:
MIDNIGHT CURIOSITIES
Corven stepped inside, closing the door with a thud that shut out the world. For a moment he stood still, breathing in the hush that blanketed the shop. He could taste the air: old dust, candle wax, the faint tang of dried flowers and a sweetness beneath it, like forbidden fruit.
Shelves climbed toward the rafters, crowded with relics and curios—masks, glass vials, strange hourglasses that dripped sand upward, a skull crowned in roses, a whip coiled beside a silken blindfold. All glimmered faintly in the candlelight, their secrets slumbering until the right touch woke them.
He ran a hand across the countertop. The ledgers here were older than the city itself—leather cracked and ink faded, yet a faint glow pulsed from their pages, promising magic for a price. Always for a price.
Corven had read the letter a dozen times since it arrived, sealed in wax the color of spilled blood. Every desire has a price. Midnight is when they pay. He didn't know who sent it, or why the shop had chosen him, but he had accepted the key—and with it, the rules. No coin would be taken here. Only secrets, lust, and pleasure opened the way.
He barely had time to adjust the candles when he heard footsteps outside. Light, measured. Not the stumbling tread of a drunk, nor the rush of someone desperate. Someone who knew exactly what they wanted.
The bell chimed again.
She stepped through the door as if she owned the night. Her hair was a waterfall of darkness, falling over one bare shoulder, eyes lined in kohl that made their green seem almost unnatural in the gloom. She wore a cloak of velvet black, which she let fall away with a single, fluid motion. Beneath, her body was sheathed in a corset the color of bruised plum, hugging her curves so tightly it looked as if she'd been poured into it. A silver pendant hung between her breasts, winking in the candlelight. Thigh-high boots, laced tight, disappeared beneath the skirts slit almost to her hip.
Corven swallowed. She smiled, a slow, wicked twist of her lips.
"So you're the new master of Midnight Curiosities," she said, her voice low and silk-edged. "I heard the shop has new ownership—and new rules."
"Depends on what you're looking for," Corven replied, trying to sound in control. The effect was ruined by the thudding of his heart and the sudden heat pooling in his gut.
She walked a slow circle around the room, fingertips trailing over the shelves. Her nails were painted the same dark wine as her lips. "Power? Beauty? A night I won't forget?" She glanced over her shoulder, eyes smoldering. "What's the going rate, Shopkeeper?"
Corven looked to the ledger on the counter. As she neared, the faint glow on its page brightened and writing appeared—blood-red script flowing like spilled wine:
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[Desire: Memory of Unending Ecstasy]
[Price: Submission, body and soul, until dawn.]
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She saw it, lips parting with a quiet intake of breath. A shiver danced across her skin, raising goosebumps on her arms. But she didn't step back.
Corven came out from behind the counter. "Payment is due up front," he said softly.
She stepped close, the heat of her body a pulse between them. "I expected nothing less." Her voice was husky, breathless.
Their mouths crashed together, teeth and tongue and velvet lips. Her hands tangled in his shirt, nails scraping his chest as she pushed the fabric aside. He caught her by the waist, spinning her so her back pressed to the counter, his knee wedged between her thighs.
She gasped as he gripped her hips, lifting her up onto the wood. The corset was laced so tight it took effort to loosen, but he found the knot at her spine, tugging until it gave, the garment loosening just enough to free her breasts to the night air. Her nipples were already hard, pebbling beneath his touch.
"Touch me," she whispered, voice raw. "I want to feel all of you."
He obeyed, cupping her breast with one hand while his mouth traced down her throat, nipping, sucking, leaving bruises in his wake. Her legs wrapped around his waist, skirt riding up, boots squeaking against the counter. He slid his hand up her inner thigh, pausing at the edge of her panties—lace, already damp.
She arched into him, shameless. "Please. Don't tease."
He hooked a finger under the thin fabric, dragging it aside, his fingers brushing slick heat. She groaned, grinding against him as he circled her clit, teasing her until she was panting, clutching at his shoulders.
With a deft motion, he ripped the panties away. She gasped, the sound half-shock, half-delight. He slid two fingers inside her, feeling her clamp around him, her walls fluttering. Her breath came in gasps now, her moans rising with every thrust of his hand.
She dug her nails into his back, dragging him closer. "Now. I want you inside me. I want to remember this forever."
Corven undid his belt with one hand, freeing himself. He lined up, pressing the head of his cock against her entrance, pausing only to meet her eyes.
"Last chance to back out," he said, voice rough.
She grabbed his jaw, yanking him into a kiss. "Take me. Now."
He pushed inside her, slowly at first, savoring the way she stretched around him, hot and tight. She threw her head back, a low moan shuddering from her lips. He began to move—slow at first, then harder, faster, slamming her hips into the counter. The whole shop seemed to pulse with their rhythm; candles flickered, shadows writhed on the walls, and the ledger's glow brightened with every gasp.
She wrapped her legs around him, ankles locking at his back. He leaned forward, sucking a nipple into his mouth, teeth grazing sensitive flesh as he thrust deeper. She cried out, nails scoring his back, breathless pleas tumbling from her lips: "Harder—deeper—don't stop—"
He fucked her relentlessly, hips slapping, the wet sound of their bodies filling the shop. Her moans rose, louder, higher, desperate. He felt her clench, her whole body tensing. She convulsed around him, coming hard, her cries shattering the silence.
He didn't stop. He rode out her climax, pounding into her, chasing his own release. When it hit, it was like being struck by lightning—white-hot, all-consuming, leaving him trembling as he emptied himself inside her.
For a long moment, they stayed tangled together, sweat-soaked and breathless. Her head rested on his shoulder, her chest rising and falling in time with his.
She laughed, low and sated. "I think you just ruined me for every other man in the city."
He grinned, kissing her temple. "You paid the price. The memory's yours forever."
As he pulled out, she slid from the counter, legs shaking, smoothing her skirt down. He found a cloth and cleaned himself, tucking himself away as she fastened her corset, redressing with practiced grace.
The ledger on the counter snapped shut. Candle flames steadied. On the shelf behind them, a new item appeared: a ruby pendant, swirling with faint light, humming with the echo of her ecstasy.
...She touched it, shivering as the magic tingled in her palm. As she slipped the ruby pendant over her neck, the ledger snapped open again, crimson light bleeding across the page as a message burned itself into existence:
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[Desire Fulfilled: Memory of Unending Ecstasy.]
[Payment Rendered: Submission, Body and Soul, Until Dawn.]
[Artifact Created: Pendant of Endless Fire.]
[Effect: The wearer will always recall the heat of this night; desire never fades, confidence never wavers.]
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The pendant glowed with living warmth, a thrum of pleasure echoing up her spine—a secret only she and the shopkeeper would ever share.
Corven smiled, heart pounding, skin still buzzing from the power of the exchange. "Send your friends," he said, voice low. "I trade in every desire."
She laughed, slipping out the door and into the fog-draped night.
He was barely done cleaning up when the bell rang again.
A new customer entered—a noblewoman in a crimson cloak, eyes gleaming with hunger, lips curling in a smile that promised trouble.
Corven straightened his shirt, heart racing. The night was still young. And Midnight Curiosities was open for business.
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