The penthouse stretched wide, floor-to-ceiling windows revealing a breathtaking view of the city. Lights glittered in every direction, the skyline pulsing with life beneath the dark night sky. The balcony, edged with sleek glass railings, overlooked the endless maze of streets below. Cars moved in clusters, their headlights glowing, but up here, everything felt distant—untouchable.

A soft breeze swept through, stirring the air with the faint hum of the city. Inside, the polished marble floors gleamed under the subtle glow of designer light fixtures. Plush, oversized furniture filled the space, elegant without being cold. Champagne glasses sat forgotten on the low table, a half-empty bottle bearing testimony to an earlier toast.

Madelyn stood by the edge of the balcony, leaning against the transparent railing. The satin robe she wore slipped slightly from one shoulder, revealing the bare curve of her collarbone. The silky fabric clung to her body, catching the ambient city lights in a subtle shimmer. She wasn't dressed to impress anyone—not tonight. The choice was deliberate. Simple, understated. But on her, it was devastating.

The loose waves of her hair cascaded down her back, strands occasionally brushing her face with the breeze. She made no move to tuck them away. Instead, she gazed out at the city, the reflection of the skyline mirrored in the glass. Even in stillness, there was an undeniable pull to her—something effortless, magnetic. She didn't seek attention. It found her.

You watched her from a few steps away, the weight of the moment settling deep in your chest. This wasn't just anyone. This was Madelyn. The woman who made headlines, dominated screens, and commanded cameras without trying. But here, under the expanse of night, she was something else entirely—untamed, intimate, breathtaking. There was no red carpet, no flash of photographers. Just her. And you. A man she had invited into her space, knowing exactly what might follow.

The air between you was thick, though no words had been spoken. She knew you were watching. You could see it in the slight tilt of her head, the barest curl at the corner of her lips. A look that wasn't playful, not entirely. It lingered on the edge of something far more dangerous.

Madelyn rested her hands on the glass, her fingers brushing lightly against its cool surface. Her legs, bare beneath the robe, crossed at the ankles. The fabric slid up just enough to tease the toned curves of her thighs. She shifted, drawing out the motion—slow, deliberate. Like she wanted you to notice. Like she knew you already had.

"City looks different from up here," she mused, her voice low, smooth, the slightest hint of amusement threading through. "Almost makes you forget how loud it is down there."

She glanced back over her shoulder, catching your eyes. The flicker of warmth in her gaze was unmistakable, but so was the challenge. She wasn't merely waiting. She was daring. Testing just how long you could stand there without closing the space between you.

Her lips parted, and this time, there was no mistaking the intent laced through her words.

"I wonder," she murmured, her fingers tracing along the glass. "Would it feel different if you fucked me right here—with the whole city watching?"