Cierra's POV

The ring caught my eye first.

A polished band of silver...too elegant, too meaningful...to be ignored. He removed it slowly, almost ceremonially, like he knew I was watching him. My throat tightened.

"Oh, this?" he said with a lazy shrug. "It's nothing."

Nothing.

Funny word for something that looked like a promise.

I swallowed hard, forcing breath into lungs that suddenly forgot how to work. God, please let this not be who I think it is. The man my mom is marrying is supposed to be safe, boring, gentle. This man was none of those things.

"What room number do you want?" I asked, trying to focus on work, on professionalism, on anything except how his gaze lingered on my lips.

"This one."

He tapped the key card in my hand...my room.

I blinked. "I... don't understand."

He stepped in closer, that impossible scent of expensive sin surrounding me. His hand pressed lightly against my spine, guiding, claiming, pushing me back toward the door.

His breath brushed the shell of my ear.

"You look like a demon perfectly made for me."

My knees almost gave out. I whispered back before thinking:

"And you look like a fallen angel sent to drag me back to Heaven."

He smirked.... slow, approving, dangerous.

"I love how perfect you arrange your lines," he murmured.

"Well," I breathed, clinging to one last piece of sanity, "too late. Someone already booked me."

He chuckled...a low, rich sound that made heat coil in my stomach.

"And what if I rebook you?"

"That's if you can," I challenged.

He didn't blink. Didn't hesitate.

Just lifted his phone and dialed.

"Yes?" A woman answered from the front desk.

"There's been a mistake," he said, tone cool and commanding. "I'm requesting an immediate swap to basic accommodation."

She apologized and asked for details.

"Name: Dominic Vance. And the performer's username...?" He lifted a brow at me.

My whole world paused.

"...MB," I forced out. "Midnight Ballerina."

He repeated it smoothly. A few keystrokes later, the swap was approved.

The call ended.

But he kept staring at me... waiting for me to connect the dots.

Dominic Vance.

The name I'd been hearing for months.

The man my mom wouldn't stop smiling about.

Everything inside me dropped...excitement, confidence, oxygen...gone. My heart thrashed in a panic cage.

This is him.

Him.

The man she is about to marry tomorrow.

I shouldn't be here.

I shouldn't want him.

But God, the way he looked at me like I was a secret sin he was born to commit...

"Did you pay for a session?" I croaked, needing something logical to cling to.

He tilted his screen toward me.

A payment receipt flashed across it.

$100,000.00

My jaw unhinged.

Energy.

This was pure, unfiltered energy.

Something rebellious, reckless, suicidal sparked inside me.

We crossed the door together... gravity pulling us closer than sanity allowed. His hand slid to my jaw. My pulse jumped. His lips brushed mine, then...

"Wait," I whispered, slipping from his hold.

I needed something to do or I'd combust.

I grabbed a bottle of wine from the minibar and poured.

"I like my men a little tipsy before the fun," I said, masking fear with sass.

He arched a brow. "So you think you can handle me?"

"Depends," I smirked. "Are you married?"

"Is that necessary information?"

"Yes," I pushed. "I need to know I'm not tearing someone's home apart."

His eyes darkened. Sharp. Amused.

"And would it bother you, if the woman couldn't keep her home?"

"Nice lines, Monsieur," I said, rolling my eyes..even though my heart was sprinting.

"Why does a whore like you care about homes?" he asked, voice soft but taunting.

"Don't call me a whore," I snapped, heat flaring up my neck.

He raised his hands in surrender, smirk playing at his lips.

"Okay... princess. My mistake."

I climbed onto the couch, straddling his lap...because control felt safer than fear.

"No pet names," I warned.

"Then good news....I'm not married." he paused, then continued... "Yet."

I froze.

"Yet?"

He leaned back, enjoying the chaos he created.

"I'm getting married tomorrow."

His audacity punched me in the stomach.

"So what are you doing here with... me?"

He didn't blink.

"Making sure I'm making the right choice."

"Why the doubt?"

"I love sex," he said bluntly.

"So?" I swallowed.

"I'm starving," he replied, eyes locking onto mine with a hunger that made reality tilt.

Something primal inside me whispered:

Prove you're better.

Prove he should choose you.

I smiled.... slow and wicked..even while shame tangled with desire.

"Then watch how a young girl does it."

"And what makes you think," he growled, "that I'm not marrying a young girl?"

My breath caught.

"My mistake," I whispered.

His fingers slid into my hair, guiding my face closer.

"Start," he murmured, "by showing me how much you want me."

Heat flooded through me...terrifying and thrilling.

I moved down to his trousers, as I rubbed his dick slowly, he moaned in pleasure as I whispered "should I keep on?" he nodded.

His hands found their way through my breast as he began squeezing it lightly, he traced his fingers down my nipples and began playing with it.

"Fuck." I whispered as he bent my neck and began sucking my nipples, he sucked one and played with the other.

He kept on playing with it in circular motion as I moaned lightly. He traced his hands down my panties, as he began rubbing my clit.

"Fuck, you are wet." he whispered as he kept rubbing my clit, slower...

"Faster." I whispered...he began rubbing my clits like his life depends on it... I rolled over flipping myself to arch my waist for easy penetration...

He rubbed his cock slightly, as he tried sliding it in but I stopped him.

"Allow me." I said, holding his hard cock..

I pushed him to the bed, climbed on him and find my way down to his cock.

I rubbed it slowly, lubricating it before sliding it inside my mouth, he cursed under his breath as i sucked his dick non stop.

He held my head for easy deep-throating as I played with his balls, teasing his cock with my tongue.

He was in heaven.

He groaned loudly and I held his neck and shoved my finger in his mouth.

"Shut up." I warned as I climed on him and inserted his cock inside my pussy.

I began riding him slowly, he moaned, holding my waist firmly, for easy thrusting.

He thrusted in fast..hard and rough, I held his chest to enable him go harder.

"Fuck..yes..fuck..." I moaned out as he grabbed my breast while thrusting in.

"Fuck, you are wet!" he yelled.

He kept going hard and deep, raising my legs high to enable him thrust faster.

"Yes..yes .. yes, that way, don't fucking stop." I moaned out, he spanked my ass and bent me over down his chest.

I held his shirt, giving him an easy penetration, he groaned slapping my ass profusely, he turned my hips, holding it down and fucking me deeper.

"Say you love how I smash that coochie!" he whispered.

I nodded and said "More reasons you should keep shut and keep on."

I bit my tongue in maximum pleasure as he spread my ass and kept thrusting in, he stood and turned me over, spanking my ass as he rubbed his dick before sliding it inside my pussy.

"Oh fuck me!" I moaned out...he began thrusting in deep, hard...

He held my hair, dragging it and whispered to my ears "Worry not, I would replace those hairs."

That must be the sexiest word a man ever said to me, because at this point I do not think I'm letting go of this man.

I think he is the Man for my pussy.

I'm sorry Mom, We might speak about this after I cum.

He held my legs open, and began licking my pussy, he played his tongue around my clit as I shivered. I rubbed his dick as he kept on fucking my pussy hole with his tongue.

I was in heaven.

"Nice Pussy." He said and left me wondering if I should say 'thanks' or just ignore it.

He rose and lay on me, kissing my lips fiercely like I was his lost treasure.

"I don't kiss sluts but for you, I would change that."

He whispered as he bit my tongue.

"Fuck you." I moaned and he pushed his cock inside me.

Once.

Twice.

But just as the world closed down to his mouth and my heartbeat...

My phone lit up.

A message from Mom.

# Baby, rest well. Tomorrow is a big day, remember?#

My blood iced.

Dominic's eyes flicked to the screen, unreadable.

No smirk.

No teasing.

Just...

Cold.

Heavy.

My chest squeezed.

I. Am. Doomed.

Cierra.

I fumbled, my heart hammering against my chest as I whispered, "Uh... uh... can I make a call?"

He paused, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, blue eyes glinting in the dim light. "Uh... sure, sure," he said casually, though I could feel the tension behind his voice.

I slipped into the bathroom, the click of the door locking behind me echoing like a heartbeat. My fingers trembled as I dialed my mum. The line rang twice before her warm, familiar voice came through.

"Hey, girl."

"Mum... what the fuck?!" I snapped, exasperation dripping from every word.

"What's going on, baby?" she asked, her tone soft, careful.

"Why are you flooding my phone with texts?" I fired back, irritation bubbling.

"Oh... I just wanted to make sure you're okay and won't have any issues tomorrow," she said, her voice casual, but there was a tiny edge of manipulation there.

"Wow, so selfish," I spat, anger rising. "Always checking in only when you need something from me!"

There was a pause, then a soft, almost guilt-ridden voice. "Sorry, baby... I apologize."

I scoffed, rolling my eyes even though she couldn't see me. "Come on, mom... you don't even apologize on a random day. You only do it when it's convenient."

Her soft chuckle floated through the phone, making my stomach twist. "Baby, get your punani wet so you don't develop mood swings tomorrow," she teased.

I ended the call, shaking my head at the audacity, just as a voice made me jump.

"Are you okay?"

My heart skipped a beat. I stammered, "Uh... yeah... yeah, I'm okay. Totally."

He stepped closer, and I could feel the warmth radiating off him. "What's going on tomorrow?" he asked, a quiet curiosity threading his tone.

"Uh... uh... my sister's party... I'll be leaving," I mumbled, heat creeping up my neck as I avoided his gaze.

He didn't press, but his presence was like gravity, pulling me closer without a single word. The air thickened with unspoken tension, and then he whispered, his voice low and teasing, "C'mon... let me clear your mood."

My pulse surged as we walked back toward the room. The moment the door shut behind us, he was on me. His hands on my hips, mine on his chest, the heat of our bodies colliding. Lips met in a bruising, desperate kiss, hands tangled in hair, exploring, teasing, claiming.

He grabbed my breast, squeezing it softly. He took my nipples in his mouth as he sucked profusely.

"Fuck fuck!" I moaned as he held my waist, pressing his cock on my thighs.

"Do you need me to stop?" he whispered tracing his fingers down my clit.

"No..No...fuck..No Daddy...Don't stop." I breathed out shamelessly.

"Good girl, Now spread those legs for papa." he slapped my ass and flipped me over.

I arched my waist so he could get an easy penetration as he stroked his dick before inserting inside me.

"Holy fuck." I screamed, he closed my mouth and began thrusting in slowly.

"Faster." I moaned as he began thrusting in fast, making sure his cock hit every vital place in my pussy.

I moaned, giving into the raw electricity between us, our rhythm urgent, unrelenting.

"Yes Yes, Daddyyy." I screamed out...he flipped me over and held my neck, choking me down to the bed, making me gasp for air.

He kept fucking me hard, nonstop as my legs kept shaking.

Moments, we were both trembling, collapsing into the bed with a synchronized shudder, hearts racing.

I rolled beside him, my chest heaving, and the conversation began, tentative yet loaded.

"Why... why do you want to marry a woman when you're clearly not ready to settle?" I asked, voice soft, tinged with frustration.

He tilted his head, blue eyes locking onto mine with that penetrating intensity. "How am I not ready to settle?"

"Uh... your actions," I whispered, biting my lip.

"You should explain," he said, voice low, dangerous.

I stared at him, my breath catching. Oh... fuck. His eyes... dazzling, hungry, consuming. I shivered. Was it me he wanted, or something else?

"Younger ladies have done me no good," he murmured, almost to himself.

"But...?" I pressed, leaning closer, heart hammering.

"And why should I open up to you?" His voice was teasing but guarded.

I crawled closer, brushing against him, heat igniting between us. "Because... we've gone two rounds, and I'm still giving you an erection," I said, voice dripping with boldness.

He scoffed, a laugh rumbling deep in his chest. "A whore has no place in my life."

I cleared my throat, shame prickling, but I met his gaze. "Oh... maybe if you don't see it in the negative side, you'd understand why people become who they are."

His laugh was sharp, teasing. "Laziness. Laziness, it is."

I sighed, frustration mingling with desire. "But why did you say 'younger women'? Are you young also... or is that your fetish?"

He exhaled slowly, leaning back, voice low. "These are reasons I think twice before laying a side girl."

I sat up, smirk tugging at my lips. "Enjoy your night," I said, beginning to pack my things, trying to mask the tremor in my fingers.

He frowned. "Where are you going?"

"To my spot... of course. My work here is done," I said lightly, but the tension thrummed between us.

"Nah... stay," he said, a quiet command in his tone.

"No... I have to go," I countered.

Before I could move, his hand grabbed mine, pushing me to the wall. I gasped, my back pressed flush against him. His breath ghosted over my neck, sending shivers down my spine.

"I repeat... stay," he whispered, possessive, low, intoxicating.

"You have no right to regulate an order to me," I breathed, heart racing uncontrollably.

He smiled, cruel and playful, "But your body says otherwise."

I bent slightly, noticing my nipples hard, my body betraying me. His cock pressing insistently against my thigh made thought impossible. I swallowed hard, a shiver running down my spine.

Finally, my voice came, trembling but daring: "Fine!, Show me how bad you can make my pussy drip, Daddy."

Dominic's POV.

"You want to know what Daddy can do?" I said, voice low enough to stir the air between us.

My whore doll since I can't figure out her name arched a brow. "Save yourself the stress of talking and go down on your knees."

The corner of my mouth lifted. The audacity in that girl. "You're too young to be this wild."

"And yet not young enough to keep your body from begging for me," she fired back, half-smile, half-challenge.

The room felt smaller. My pulse was louder than the bass coming from the club below us. I reached for her wrist and turned her toward the bed. "You play with fire, you'll get burned," I murmured.

"Then light the match," she breathed.

I pushed her gently onto the sheets, a motion caught somewhere between command and care. She looked up at me like she already knew she had the upper hand. "Welcome to my honey kitty," she teased.

I couldn't help a short laugh, shaking my head as I slid my finger through her panties, gently rubbing her clit.

She bit my arms, making me shove my finger in her mouth.

"Yes, take that in." I groaned, watching her spit on my cock and caressed it.

She chuckled and whispered, "You love it, don't you?"

"Spit on that cock and stroke it like you love it, it's all yours." I commanded, and slid my cock inside her pussy..she adjusted her waist for easy penetration as I teased her with my tip.

"Tell me something," I said, still smiling. "Your mom must be an expert."

She froze...just like that, the atmosphere shifted. The tease disappeared, replaced by something raw.

"Why would you uh...call out my mom?" she asked, voice cracking.

I blinked. "Oh... sorry if I brought out a dead part."

"She's not dead," she snapped.

"Then why react that way?"

"Because it sounded weird coming from you," she said quietly.

I studied her face, the flicker of emotion that didn't belong in a night like this. I stepped closer, fingers brushing her hair back. "Don't take it personal," I said softly. "It's just words."

She looked away, then back at me, conflicted. I flipped her over and pressed a slow, careful kiss against her shoulder, not passion now but reassurance. The air buzzed again, thick, charged...but before the tension could build further, my phone started ringing.

"Damn it," I muttered. "Not now."

She caught my wrist. "Don't pick it."

"I..."

"I said don't," she insisted, eyes dark.

I held her gaze. "Someone's getting a little obsessed with Daddy," I teased, half-laugh, half-warning.

She met my stare, pupils wide, her breathing uneven. "What are you doing to me?" she whispered.

"I..." I started, but the phone rang again, louder, breaking the moment completely.

"Excuse me," I said, pulling away.

"Sure," she murmured, masking disappointment with indifference.

I grabbed the phone. "Samantha, what now?"

Her voice came through bright and excited. "Dom, don't sound so cold! We're down to one day, can you believe it? The florist just sent the mock-ups, and they're perfect. Everyone's asking how the groom's feeling."

I forced a smile into my tone. "Thrilled, obviously."

"Don't tease. I want you to sound like you mean it tomorrow, okay? You're supposed to look at me like you're already in love, remember?"

"I'll handle it," I said.

"Handle it? Dominic, this is our wedding. Try saying something sweet like 'I can't wait to see you.' "

I sighed. "I can't wait to see you, Samantha."

"Better," she laughed. "Now be sweet. Tomorrow we will become forever."

"Forever," I echoed, flat but polite.

When I hung up and turned back, My whore doll was sitting up, expression unreadable. "Sorry, baby. My fiancée called."

"Oh," she said, tone sharp. "That's... cute."

"Yeah," I said. "You need an invitation?"

She let out a short, humorless laugh. "Are you serious?"

"What?"

"How do you invite someone you were fucking the night before your wedding to come watch you say 'I do'?"

"Maybe," I said, walking closer, "so you can see what you're about to miss."

Her eyes narrowed. "I'm not your ex or fiancee, Dominic. I shouldn't and can't be missing you."

"You wanna grab that position so bad," I said calmly.

"I never said that."

I smiled. "No, you didn't. But your eyes did. Your body too."

She tried to answer, but stumbled over her words..."How... uh... I.."

"Exactly," I said softly. "That's what I meant."

She scoffed, folding her arms. "You're unbelievable...and full of empty arrogance!"

"Thank you."

"And a manipulator."

"Coming from a woman who still refuses to take off her mask," I replied.

Her jaw tightened. "Yeah, well... it's policy."

"I could've taken it off," I said.

"Then why didn't you?"

"I promised my fiancée I wouldn't be looking at another woman," I said simply.

Her eyes widened. "I don't even understand you."

"It's called loyalty."

She gave a short, bitter laugh. "Right. Loyalty."

I reached for the pack on the table, pulled out a cigarette, and held one out. "Want some?"

She pushed it away. "No. I'm done here."

I leaned back, amused. "Finally, your pussy takes a break."

She turned sharply. "What did you just say?"

"Shut the door behind you," I said, voice low, dismissive.

She froze, anger radiating from her. "You really think you can just talk to people like that?"

"People? Or you?" I asked, meeting her eyes.

"You think this little power trip makes you untouchable?"

"Not untouchable," I said. "Just aware."

"Of what?"

"That you're still standing here arguing, have some self respect darling.." I said quietly.

Her lips parted, but before she could respond, a knock rattled the door. I smiled, tugged my shirt on, and walked toward it. She leaned against the wall, watching me, her breathing still uneven.

I stopped inches from her, close enough that she could feel my breath. "What...uh...what are you doing?" she whispered.

I lifted a finger, pressed it gently against her lips. "Get over this obsession, Cierra," I murmured. "Or it'll ruin you."

She stiffened, eyes darting up to mine. For a second, she looked small, vulnerable. I brushed her hand aside, opened the door, and stepped out.

The hallway spilled into noise and colored light. Downstairs, the club pulsed...red strobes, laughter, music that vibrated through the floor. The scent of whiskey and sweat, perfume and smoke. Crowds shifted like waves, bodies gliding, glittering, losing themselves in the night.

I moved through it, nodding at a few familiar faces until I reached the VIP corner where my friends were posted. They were mid-laugh, bottles half-empty, the usual chaos before the calm of wedding responsibility. I leaned in, lowered my voice. "Got an emergency to hit up. I'll call you boys tomorrow."

"Don't vanish on your last night of freedom," one of them shouted over the music.

"Wouldn't dream of it," I said, already heading toward the exit.

"Dad!"

I turned. My son was weaving through the crowd toward me, phone in hand. 23, tall, wearing that same grin I used to pull when I thought I was grown.

"Been calling you," he said, breathless.

"Why are you here?" I asked, half-stern.

"To meet a friend."

"You've got a friend here?"

He smirked. "Yeah. Need to tell her something before i leave the country."

I laughed. "Careful, son."

"Always, Dad." He gave me a quick hug, then jogged toward the bar.

I stepped outside to the car, cool night air biting my skin. As I opened the door, a folded photo slipped out onto the pavement. I bent down, picked it up...and froze.

My son smiling, arm around a girl with familiar eyes, familiar posture. My gut twisted. She looked too damn much like someone I should know.

I let out a low whistle. "My son sure knows how to pull a real baddie," I muttered, half-proud, half-uneasy.

"Hot kid!" I called. He turned. "You forgot this."

He jogged over, took the photo, grinning. "Appreciate it, Dad."

"Your eye's sharp as hell, kid. That baddie you pulled...man, damn. so much like your daddy haha. "

He laughed. "Don't start, Dad."

Then a voice cut through the noise.

"George! Why are you here?"

The sound froze me. we turned toward it, every muscle locking.