The door clicked shut, sealing you both in with the low hum of neon bleeding through the curtains. The bed in the center of the room looked impossibly soft… but all your focus was on her.
Nico Robin stood there in deep purple lingerie—lace so fine it looked painted on her skin. The bra cupped her perfectly, the delicate straps barely holding the weight of her curves. Matching panties sat low on her hips, the garter straps drawing your eyes down her smooth thighs.
> "This isn’t the kind of room you book for sleep," she murmured, stepping closer.
The dim pink glow from the sign outside painted her body in shadows and light, each sway of her hips sending a promise through the air. She slid onto the bed, leaning back on one arm, her long legs crossing slowly as her eyes locked with yours.
> "Well? You’re not just going to stand there, are you?"
She didn’t rush. She let you take in every inch—the curve of her breasts beneath the lace, the soft swell of her hips, the teasing peek of skin between garter and stocking. The love hotel’s walls might have been thin… but she wasn’t going to be quiet.
Tonight, she’s not in a hurry.
She’s here to make sure you never forget this room