Emily

I looked up, surprise evident on my face.

Why was he here?

I forgot to ask Nathan about him.

The unknown man stood there, jacket already off, sleeves rolled back, as if he’d been expecting to end his night alone—which was normal, except he should be in a guest room, not here. He seemed older, probably in his late thirties, and carried himself with a weight of authority and confidence.

His gaze dropped to me.

The silence stretched.

“You’re in the wrong room,” he said.

“So are you” I retorted.

He raised an eyebrow, didn’t move to leave.

Instead, he closed the door behind him.

The click echoed in my chest.

“You’ve been drinking,” he observed.

“A little,” I said.

I stood, a little unsteady, and he reached out—not to touch me, but to steady me. His hands hovered, giving me time. Choice.

I didn’t step away.

That was when his fingers finally closed around my arm.

Warm. Firm. Controlled.

“You should leave,” he said quietly.

“So should you” I replied.

Neither of us moved.

Then his lips were on mine.

I froze, then kissed him back, if Nathan could frolick around with Lily right under my nose, then I could allow myself this one night of passion.

The mysterious man pulled back just enough to look at me.

“This doesn’t happen if you don’t want it to,” he said.

I nodded. “I want it.”

That was all it took.

His lips were back on mine. Deeper now, more aggressive, like he wanted to swallow me whole.

I responded as much as I could, moans slipping out of me before I could control them.

I clamped my mouth shut trying to stifle the moans as his mouth traced down my neck, his teeth grazing my skin.

That would definitely leave marks, but I was too overwhelmed to worry about that.

His eyes moved slowly towards my hands covering !y mouth.

"What are you doing?" he asked. Curiousity and something else...fear maybe, flicking through his eyes.

"There are people in the house" I replied, expecting him to get it. But he didn't.

"And?"

"They'll hear us. And what if the owner of the room comes in?"

He smiled, relief spreading across his face as he buried his face in my neck.

"I thought you changed your mind." he said, his hand moving along my back to unzip my dress, his eyes locked into mine.

I place a kiss on his lips.

Maybe it was the alcohol, but I'm being so bold right now. This is so unlike me, but it would be nice to unshackle myself once in a while right?

"I didn't" I reply, dropping my arms and letting the dress fall down to my waist.

It was an armless gown and I didn't wear a bra underneath.

His gaze moved over me slowly, as if committing each part of me to memory. The desire and hunger in his eyes made my proud of myself in a way I'd never been.

It made me feel beautiful.

I stood up gently, letting the dress fall to the ground and kicking my heels away.

His eyes roamed over my body as he took me in, his desire for me burning in his eyes.

I loved it, the way he looked at me like I was the most beautiful woman in the world made my heart race.

"We still have to be quiet" I reminded him as he took my hand in his and guided us back to the bed.

"Don't worry, this room has enough soundproofing" there was pride in his voice "you can scream as much as you'd like."

I flushed, my heart racing as he laid me back against the bed, his lips all over me again, this time harder and faster like he couldn't wait to taste every part of me.

My hands moved along his torso to undo the button on his shirt and I gasped at the feeling of his skin on my fingers.

He was fit. For an older man, I wasn't expecting much but he was muscular, his body packed with muscles in the right places, how could someone be this perfect?

My hands moved along his upper torso, fingers brushing him softly above his belt.

He flinched, his breath getting deeper as he grabbed my hands, pinning them above my head with one hand as he continued worshipping my body with kisses, his other hand tracing the lines around my breast, making me moan in anticipation.

I gasped as he took the breast in one hand, kneading it softly, his thumb rubbing my nipple in a way that made my toes curl, heat pooling in my belly. His mouth was on the other breast, bitting and sucking, his other hand left mine, taking my breast in it.

I screamed, my back arching forward as his tongue traced circles along my nipple.

His mouth left my breasts, tracing kisses down my belly. His hand stopped at the strap of my underwear and he looked up at me, his eyes begging for permission.

I nodded, once, and he smiled, the underwear gone in an instance.

"You're wet" his voice was tense, his breathing ragged, like he was trying to restrain himself.

His fingers moved along my inner thigh and I sucked in a breath, my eyes shut in embarrassment.

"Look at me" he commanded, his thumb tracing circles around me, my eyes flew open, insides twisting at the authority in his voice.

"Oh my God!" I sreamed, my body tensing as he slipped a finger into me, heat pooling low in my belly as I clung to him, my fingernails scratching into his back.

Another finger, and I came, screaming loudly as the heat rushed through me.

"Fuck" his voice was husky, eyes locked onto mine, "do you really want this? Can I?"

Why does he keep asking the same question?

I nodded.

His hands left me to unbuckle his belt and I watched as his pants came off, his eyes on mine as he took off his underwear.

I tensed, and he smirked, "don't worry it'll fit"

"It... it's my first time," I stammered, how am I supposed to survive that thing.

"I know" he replied, "I'll be gentle"

He moved closer, and I instinctively moved back, my eyes locked at the weapon between his legs.

He grabs me, pulling me closer as he settles himself between my legs.

"I'll be gentle, I promise" he reassured, lips brushing against mine.

But I didn't believe, how gentle could you be with that thing.

The kiss deepened and I felt myself melt in his arms, the tension leaving my body slowly.

His mouth left mine as his hands slipped between us, his eyes locked on mine as though reassuring me.

I winced as I felt him enter me.

He tensed, his eyes on me.

"Continue" I said, my teeth gritting in pain.

Another thrust and I cried out, tears pooling in my eyes, he paused, holding me in his hands as he soothed me.

"Are you ok?"

"I'm ok, is it all in?"

"This will do for now" he replied, "you can't take more "

I wanted to protest, but he shut me off with a kiss, withdrawing a bit and thrusting back in as slowly as he could.

The rest of the night unfolded in fragments. I don't know how many times we did it or how long we spent, but I loved every bit of it, his mouth tracing slow, deliberate paths; his hands learning me with patience that felt almost dangerous. He guided rather than took, watching my reactions like he was memorizing them.

I felt exposed in a way I never had before.

Desired without my mask on.

Wanted without having to fake it.

The quiet sound of my name on his lips. Time blurred. Thoughts dissolved.

By the time I finally slept, it was with his presence wrapped around me, warmth enveloping me in a way that made me feel protected.

Emily

The sunlight hit my eyes first. Then, slowly, the reality of the night before came into focus.

I was naked. Not under a blanket, not half-covered. Naked. With a man I didn't know by my side.

I froze for a moment, holding my breath, expecting panic or shame to hit. It didn’t. Not exactly. Not like I thought it would.

Instead, a surprising calm spread through me, like the kind you feel after surviving a storm.

I hadn’t regretted it.

Not a single bit.

My mind had finally caught up to my body, the alcohol having worn off enough for clarity. I could remember everything—his hands, his voice, the way he moved over me—and even now, thinking about it made my pulse flutter and my stomach ache with a kind of familiar longing.

But calm came next, along with worry.

Consequences.

Not because I was ashamed—though I wasn’t proud, either—but because we lived in a world where everything had repercussions. The Browns, the Carters, Nathan… the mess this would create if anyone found out.

Nathan was a man, people would simply wave his affairs way, but I was different, I was a woman with only my perfect image to my name, if any of this ever leaked, I'd be ruined.

Totally ruined.

I rolled carefully, careful not to wake him, and studied him. He slept like he owned the world. Broad shoulders, the faint rise and fall of muscle beneath smooth skin. Dark hair falling across his forehead. Even in sleep, he radiated control. Command. Power.

And yet… last night he had been gentle. Careful.

I swallowed, sitting up slowly, trying to slip out of the bed

"Where are you going?" his voice was groggy, but there was no mistaking the shivers that ran through me at the sound

“Hmm... I'm leaving” I said quietly, testing my voice. "I need to get out of here before anyone comes knocking, we should be grateful the owner of this room didn't come yesterday, I can't even imagine what would have happened", My eyes searched around for my clothes, and I found it at the edge of the bed, keeping myself covered with the sheets, I reached for it.

"This is my room" I froze, "So you don't have to worry about anyone 'disturbing' us"

His room?

"Your room?" I asked

"Yes", he replied

"You have a room here?" He nodded, "in the Carter's family house?" He nodded again, "Who are you?" I asked

"Who do you think?" He asked, sitting up now, a taunting smile on his face,

Was he... mocking me?

I know Nathan doesn't have a brother, and I wasn't actually close enough with him to know if he had any friends close enough to earn a room in the Carter's house.

I picked up my dress, the zip was torn, it wasn't wearable, i didn't care who he was as long as this was kept a secret

"Whoever you are," I started, "I'd like to ask that we keep what happened between us a secret, I'm sure you also don't want this..." I gestured between us, "to get out"

'Why?" He asked

I turned to look at him, was I speaking another language?

"Why what?"

"Why do we have to keep this a secret?" He continued

What kind of stupid question was that?

"Because there will be consequences of course" I replied

“Consequences?” he repeated softly, and the edge in his voice made me shiver. “I don’t care about consequences.”

I blinked. “What?”

“I said,” he leaned forward, resting one hand on the bed near me, keeping me pinned by the weight of his presence, “you’re mine now. My woman. And I don’t intend to let you go.”

I froze. With shock.

“Yours? I, we—” My voice caught. “We can’t—”

“I said, you’re mine,” he repeated, flatly, almost casually, like he was stating the weather. “And if anyone—anyone—tries to take you away or interfere, I will make sure they regret it.”

My stomach dropped. He's crazy. How can he say that so easily when he just attended my engagement party and I don't even know him.

Well, I'm also in bed with him so maybe I'm also crazy. But I can sort this out. I always do.

“So...wait—wait a second,” I said, trying to gather my thoughts. “So what do you want me to do now? Be… with you?”

He leaned back slightly, eyes dark, commanding. “I’ll marry you.”

The words hit me like a slap.

It's confirmed.

He's crazy.

I almost laughed, almost cried, almost shouted. “Excuse me? Mr.man… I’m engaged. To Nathan Carter. Your... I don't know even know, friend? Brother?”

He smirked, unbothered, almost amused by my objection. “And?”

“And… and that matters. It’s… I mean…” I stammered, feeling heat rise to my cheeks. “I can’t. We… you can’t just—”

“I just did,” he interrupted. His voice was calm, even teasing, but carrying that weight—that command. “You’re mine. I will marry you. And if you refuse, Emily…” His eyes glinted, sharp, almost predatory. “…I will tell everyone everything that happened last night.”

My stomach lurched. My pulse raced. The consequences I had tried so hard to avoid were suddenly all too real.

Was he being serious right now?

He's also involved, isn't he worried about his reputation?

“Wait,” I said, my voice firmer now, trying to regain control, “we can't…get married."

"Why?" His tone was harsh "You'll risk ruining your reputation for Nathan?"

I sighed. "It's not that. It's just... I’m not ready to get married. But, I can be… with you. If you promise to keep it secret.”

He leaned closer, and I could feel the heat radiating off him. He studied me, not like someone making a deal, but like someone who had already won.

“And why,” he asked softly, dangerously, “would I ever want to keep it a secret?”

I swallowed hard, trying to maintain control. “Because… because I don’t want anyone else involved. I don’t want to complicate things. I want you to… be considerate.”

He smiled slowly, predatory but amused, and leaned back. “Considerate. That’s… cute. Fine. We keep it secret. For now.”

“For now,” I repeated, feeling the word like a shield. I swallowed the lump of desire and fear in my throat and tried to draw a line.

He'd probably get bored of me in a few days and I have my peace again.

I sighed in relief, it was a win-win.

He chuckled softly, a sound that made my pulse spike. “You really think this will last as just a relationship?”

“I… I hope you get over me soon,” I admitted, trying to sound casual.

He tilted his head, eyes glinting with something like amusement mixed with obsession. “Oh, Emily,” he said softly, almost reverently, “you think I could get over you?”

I looked away, gripping the sheet around me. I was still level-headed. I had to be. I had to keep some control.

He leaned forward, resting his forehead lightly against mine. His hand slid to the back of my neck, holding me in place with gentle yet unyielding strength.

“Ok, let's keep it between us. For now,” he murmured, lips brushing against mine in a whisper. “But don’t fool yourself. You’ll never be just temporary to me.”

I closed my eyes, letting the warmth of his body and the weight of his gaze wash over me. I didn’t regret last night. I didn’t regret him.

But now I had to survive this. Navigate it. Control it—or try to.

“And if you break this,” I said softly, opening my eyes, meeting his, “I’ll… I’ll make sure there are consequences.”

His laugh was low and throaty. “I doubt you will. Because you’re mine, Emily. And now, everyone else can just deal with it.”

"Well, you can dare me". I replied. "Now do you have a robe I can put on? I need to get out of here"

Emily

Assured that what happened remains between us, I tightened the robe around me and slipped out of the room, scanning the hallway for movements, I walked as fast as I could down the long corridor, all the rooms had the same doors, no wonder I went into the wrong room.

I tried to remember which room the the maid had taken my luggage to.

I couldn't

I could only guess.

The only main room on this floor other than Adrian's was Nathan's.

Others were guest rooms

Trying my luck, I open the first guest room beside Nathan's slightly, peeking inside.

It was empty.

I sighed in relief and slipped into the room, closing the door behind me.

At a corner of the room was my luggage.

Perfect, I'm in the right room.

It made sense though, placing my luggage in the room beside my fiancé's.

I looked around the room.

A modest bed, neutral walls, a single window letting in soft morning light.

Nice for a guest room.

The bathroom was small but functional. I turned on the shower and let the warm water hit my skin, letting the liquid run over me as though it could wash away my mistakes.

Then I noticed the marks.

I froze, gripping the edge of the tub. The evidence was everywhere: the faint, angry blush on my neck, the lingering traces on my shoulders, and the subtle hints along my chest.

How am I going to hide these?

I closed my eyes. I could think of scarves, high collars, turtlenecks—but this was summer, and the house was hot with sunlight pouring in. I could feel my pulse spike with panic.

I scrubbed at the marks under the hot water, but I knew it was pointless. They were still there, and worse, they were visible. The thought of the marks being seen, made my stomach knot.

I finished the shower quickly, letting the towel wrap around me tightly, pressing it to my body as though that could erase my worry.

The first thing I did after drying off was press the call button on the nightstand. My voice, when I asked for help, had to sound casual, distant—innocent.

“I’m feeling a bit chilly,” I told the maid when she answered.

“Could you bring me some clothes? Something long-sleeved… and perhaps a scarf or something to cover my neck?”

“Of course, Miss Emily. I’ll bring them immediately.”

I waited, pretending to read a book that wasn’t open, my mind racing. I didn’t want the Carter's—or anyone else—to see me like this, vulnerable, exposed.

Moments later, a soft knock echoed at the door. I peeked out just enough to see the maid place a folded set of clothes on the floor. My hands itched to snatch them immediately, but I stayed still until she left.

Once the door clicked shut, I moved fast, grabbing the clothes and scanning for the scarf—or high-necked blouse—that could hide the marks on my skin. I clutched it to my chest and let out a quiet, relieved sigh.

Safe. For now.

I dressed quickly, slipping into the long sleeves, letting the soft fabric shield my neck, chest, and shoulders. I checked myself in the mirror and tried not to panic at the subtle shadows of the hickeys. They were faint, but they were there.

I need to figure out a plan.

I made sure the room looked a little disorganized, as if I had just woken up normally.

The bell rang a short while later, and a second maid knocked politely.

“Miss Emily, breakfast is ready downstairs,” she said, her voice neutral. “The family would like you to join them.”

I nodded, keeping my composure. “Thank you. I’ll be down shortly.”

She left, and I closed my eyes, letting myself sink into the bed for a moment. My pulse was still racing, and the events of last night felt surreal in the bright morning light.

As I made my way downstairs, each step felt heavier than the last. Every corner, every doorway seemed alive with possibility. What if someone noticed my neck? What if Nathan—God forbid—looked too closely?

I tried to calm myself with shallow breaths, keeping my hands lightly crossed over my chest. The scarf was a good cover. Long sleeves hid my shoulders. No one could see the evidence, but the knowledge of it pressed on me like a weight.

Breakfast was already in motion when I entered.

The long dining table gleamed beneath the morning light, silverware aligned with surgical precision. Freshly brewed coffee, buttered pastries, sliced fruit arranged like artwork. The Carters moved with the kind of effortless composure that came from generations of wealth.

Nathan was already seated, looking annoyingly composed. I know he didn't care, but part of me couldn’t stop the occasional flicker of guilt—or thrill—at last night.

He looked up first, smiling— a smile that obviously didn't reach his heart.

“Good morning, Emily. Sleep well?”

My fingers tightened subtly around the fabric at my neck.

“Yes,”

I slid into my chair, keeping my scarf tight, my posture deliberate. The mysterious man was nowhere to be seen, and a tiny part of me was grateful. Maybe he'd stay upstairs and spare me the unsettling feeling of his pressing gaze

Breakfast passed in a flurry of polite conversation. The Carters were warm but distant, like people who treated interactions as carefully choreographed dances. I kept my eyes mostly on my plate, speaking only when addressed.

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a subtle shift in the room. Someone had arrived, I looked up, it was the mysterious man, moving slowly, purposefully, like he owned every step he took. He didn’t speak. He simply looked at me, his eyes flickering briefly to Nathan beside me.

He looked amused.

I turned slightly toward Nathan, keeping my voice soft. Casual.

“Who is that?”

Nathan glanced up, as if the answer were obvious.

“Oh. That’s my uncle.”

Uncle.

The word hit like ice water.

Nathan continued, oblivious to the way my pulse spiked.

“Adrian Carter. He doesn’t stay here often. He runs most of the Carter Group now.”

My heart stopped.

Adrian Carter.

Uncle.

Carter Group.

The man from last night.

The man whose marks were still burning beneath my clothes.

Adrian’s gaze never left me as he approached the table. Slowly. Deliberately.

He took the seat at the very edge — not at the head— but positioned in a way that allowed him to see everything.

Especially me.

A faint smirk touched his lips.

I felt exposed.

Nathan leaned slightly toward me, lowering his voice.

“Just a warning,” he murmured. “Don’t cross him.”

I swallowed.

“He may be my uncle, but he’s the real power behind the Carter Group. My father listens to him. Everyone does.”

I could barely hear him over the roaring in my ears.

Don’t cross him.

Too late.

I had crossed him.

In more ways than one.

Adrian picked up his coffee cup, his movements unhurried. Calculated. He didn’t greet me. Didn’t acknowledge last night.

But his eyes did.

They traced the scarf at my neck.

I forced myself to lift my cup, though my hands felt unsteady. If anyone noticed, they said nothing.

“Emily,” Mrs Carter said pleasantly, “I hope you’re settling in comfortably.”

“Yes,” I answered, somehow managing composure. “Everyone has been very kind.”

Adrian’s thumb brushed the rim of his cup.

Kind.

His lips curved slightly, as if he found that amusing.

"They should be" Nathan's mom continued, patting my hands from across the table, "you'll soon be the young madam of the family, they shouldn't just be kind, they should also show respect"

Nathan's dad laughed at her words, I didn't know what about it was funny.

I kept my eyes on my plate, but I could feel him — the weight of him — like a hand at the back of my neck.

Nathan resumed casual conversation, unaware of the silent war unfolding across the table.

Unaware that the man he admired, respected — feared — had pressed me against cold sheets hours ago.

Unaware that I now understood exactly why everyone in this house moved carefully when Adrian Carter entered a room.

Power.

It radiated off him.

And I had walked straight into it.

My pulse thudded against the marks hidden beneath silk and fabric.

Don’t cross him.

I hadn’t just crossed him.

I had let him cross me.

And the worst part?

When our eyes locked again — just for a second — I felt that same pull.

Dangerous.

Magnetic.

I looked away first.

But he smiled.