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    Summary

    — I’m a dancer, not a whore, Doctor. — The woman hissed, annoyed, yet amused. The moonlight complimented her hazelnut skin almost as beautifully as the gemstones that adorned her.
    — That is not what I asked, darling. — The older man said with a malicious smirk, allowing his lust to shine through. It did not bother her, she was used to men, well, being men.
    Her days of pleasing Johns were over and she was set on keeping it that way; still; his offer was simple and tempting: a night of pleasure, of sin, of pain.

    OR in other words MC bites more than she can chew and Il Dottore is a deranged motherfucker

    Language:
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