"Here's some water, sunshine."

  That voice deep, a little hoarse, maddeningly masculine washed over me like heat. My nipples hardened instantly.

  His voice wasn't the only thing doing things to me. There was a lavender scent in the air warm, soft, seductive. It pulled me in before I could even see him. Whoever this man was, I didn't want him to leave. Ever.

  I tilted my head up and God, I wish I hadn't.

  He stood tall, commanding the room without trying. Leaf-brown hair, eyes the color of spring leaves and secrets, and a face carved like he was sculpted in a dream. His eyes glowed with quiet admiration, and I was completely lost in them.

  His beards were dark and finely trimmed, enhancing the edges of his already flawless jaw. A tiny stud glittered in his ear, subtle but impossible to miss.

  He wore a navy blue suit, tailored to perfection expensive, rich-looking. The jacket curved perfectly around his body, hinting at strength beneath. When he undid the buttons, revealing a crisp white shirt stretched over his broad chest, I swallowed hard. I couldn't stop staring. His arms, his shoulders, that narrow waist... my entire body reacted.

  God help me.

  My head was spinning, not from alcohol, and definitely not from whatever it is that's in my body, but from lust. My eyes shamelessly dropped to the outline of his trousers, and I swore I could feel it pressing into me already. I wanted him on top of me, inside me. I didn't even know his name.

  What the hell was wrong with me?

  Looking at his face, he was definitely older maybe ten, eleven years my senior. But I didn't care. As long as he wasn't my father, he could ruin me however he wanted.

  I smiled faintly, picked up the water, and drank it all down in one go. It burned down my throat like fire, but weirdly, it dulled the ache inside me. The ache from earlier. The ache that had Dave's name on it.

  "Do you want more?" he asked, that deep voice laced with amusement.

  I looked up, and his smile nearly undid me. His white teeth, his calm confidence... he didn't feel real. Was he an angel? Sent to erase my pain?

  Since he showed up, I hadn't thought about my fiancé. Not once. Not about what Dave did to me. Not about how broken I felt. This stranger was filling up all the spaces Dave tore open.

  I drank again, and again, unable to stop staring at the bulge in his pants.

  "Staring won't pull my pants off," he said smoothly. "You'll have to do that with your hands."

  I blinked. Wait, what?

  He caught me.

  Embarrassed, I looked away too late. I'd been caught red-handed or red-eyed, in this case. I tried to get up, staggering from the chair, needing to distance myself from him before I actually did what he said. My thighs were hot, my panties soaked. I still had dignity. I was still engaged and this behavior of mine is literally immoral.

  Where the hell was Liam with that water? And where were my friends?

  The club had emptied out without me noticing. No one around. Just me and him.

  Was this a dream? A horny hallucination?

  I blinked hard, pressing my hands against my eyes, trying to reset.

  And then his arm wrapped around my waist. From behind. That scent lavender again wrapped around me as his body pressed into mine. I froze, every nerve in my body sparking like electricity.

  I didn't need to turn to know it was him.

  Why did he have to smell so good?

  I wanted to pull away, to stop this madness. But then his warm breath brushed my neck, and I was melting again. He pulled me closer. We began to sway, slow and steady, as if the music had always belonged to us.

  Then, he stopped. I gasped.

  "Do you want to leave with me... to somewhere more private, sunshine?" he asked.

  The heat between my legs surged. I was ready to tear my clothes off and beg him to fuck me.

  I nodded.

  "Can you walk?" he whispered.

  No. I couldn't.

  I shook my head.

  He chuckled low and deep before sweeping me off the ground in his arms, princess-style. I let out a small, breathy cry. My soaked panties clung to me shamefully.

  Outside, a silver Phantom Rolls Royce pulled up with quiet elegance. A man in black emerged, bowed, and opened the door.

  "Follow the other car," my stranger ordered.

  Once inside, he laid me gently on the seat, ensuring I was comfortable before climbing in next to me. The door shut, and the world faded.

  His hand found my thigh. It trailed upward, slow and possessive. I shivered.

  One moment we were silent. The next, I was on his lap, his arms wrapped around me, hands exploring. He spanked me lightly and chuckled when I gasped.

  Our lips collided and I floated. His kiss was fire and silk, desperation and control. I felt his hand cupping my face, deepening the kiss, and in that moment, nothing else mattered.

  When he broke the kiss, I whimpered, only for it to be replaced with moans as he trailed kisses down my neck. He undid the top buttons of my shirt, exposing my shoulder, and kissed it gently. My hands wrapped around his neck, needing more.

  His lips returned to mine demanding now. One hand slid over my breast, squeezing gently. I could feel the hardness of his cock pressing against me through my skirt, and I was dying to taste him. Without realizing it, my hand was stroking him through his pants.

  "Yes, sunshine," he groaned into my mouth.

  That voice...

  I was gone.

  When he broke the kiss again, I almost cried.

  "Why did you stop?" I asked breathlessly.

  He smiled.... God, that smile.

  "Because we're home, sunshine."

  Home.

  I clung to him like the world would end if I let go.

  And yet some part of me, some tiny voice fought to surface. You don't know this man. You're engaged.

  "I'm sorry. I don't think I can do this," I said weakly, trying to pull away.

  He looked at me. Deep. Intense. Like he could see through me.

  "I think you're drugged," he said calmly. "I don't fuck drugged women. I like my women sane when I fuck the life out of them. But I'll still make you cum until you beg me to stop."

  His words alone made me wetter.

  I kissed him again desperate, out of control.

  And then, we were in his bedroom.

  ---

I don't know when or how we got to his bedroom, but all I could feel was him ripping my clothes off like he'd been waiting a lifetime for this.

  His hands started at my neck, one palm gently wrapping around my throat. Then, he let it slide lower... and lower.

  In another world, he wouldn't be doing this to me.

  But here, he tightened his grip just slightly around my neck, making me tremble as his hand slid down and cupped my breast. My eyes dropped, fixated on the way he groped it-claiming me, exploring me, like my body belonged to him.

  His touch felt like magic, so good I almost flipped him over and shoved his face into my tits. But I didn't. I held back. I let him take control of my body... and drive me insane.

  That was the goal, wasn't it?

  To feel.

  To be relieved of everything.

  He moved to my other breast, gave it a firmer squeeze and I heard a muffled moan escape from my lips. I'd never moaned like this before. Not even with Dave. Everything felt new. Too new.

  "Get your hands off your mouth. Now." His voice was firm, commanding sexy as fuck.

  I obeyed without hesitation, lowering my hand from my lips, breath hitching.

  My pink nipples were hard, swollen, and burning under the heat of his fingers. I felt like I'd been electrocuted by his touch. I jerked slightly at his grip.

  "Oh fuck..." I moaned.

  He pulled his left hand from my breast and brought it to my lips. "Open up," he whispered into my ear.

  My lips parted. Slowly.

  He slid two fingers into my mouth, feeling the inside wet, warm, and soft. I never imagined this could turn me on so much, but fuck, it did. It made me wild. My tongue swirled over his fingers and my mind spiraled into the image of his cock sliding down my throat.

  He pulled his fingers out and smeared my spit over my nipple before letting his other hand trail down my body... down to pussy clenched before he even got there.

  Then he brushed my clit and I quivered against him.

  "How does that feel?" he asked, voice low and rough, his mouth at my ear as he sucked my earlobe.

  "Ahh fuck... it-it feels... good," I gasped, pressing into his hand instinctively.

  He brushed my clit again.

  And again.

  And again.

  Then he pressed hard on that tiny sensitive spot, rubbing in tight, maddening circles.

  "Fuck! That... I'm going to have another-" I couldn't even finish. I was too shy to say it aloud. But he knew. He wanted to hear it.

  He licked my ear slowly and whispered, "You're going to cum. Right now. On my fingers."

  "Yes!" I cried out as my thighs tensed and my orgasm ripped through me. He pushed my tits together in his left hand while my body arched.

  "Yes! I'm going to cum on your fingers!" I whimpered again, breaking apart in his arms.

  He watched me watched me come undone. It was the first time I'd ever cum like that in my life. Not with Dave. Not with anyone. With a complete stranger.

  Shit.

  Then he pushed his hand further between my thighs and fuck. I was dripping. The sheets were soaked.

  "You're so wet, Sunshine," he groaned.

  Still fondling my breast with one hand, he pulled me flush against him. I could feel his cock, rock-hard beneath his clothes, pressing into me.

  "So wet... and I'm this hard for you," he groaned again, his voice thick with hunger.

  He rubbed my pussy, spreading the wetness up to my clit.

  "Oh my..." I gasped and instinctively covered my mouth again.

  "Get your hands off," he said firmly.

  I looked up at him with the sluttiest, yet shyest, eyes I'd ever worn.

  He pulled my hand away, and I moaned still watching him.

  "I feel so... dirty right now," I breathed as he played with my clit again, circling it before sliding down to rub along my folds.

  I felt completely exposed.

  Completely possessed.

  And I had never felt this way before.

  "Feeling dirty feels good, doesn't it? It feels so fucking good," he growled against my neck and then he spanked my wet pussy.

  "Fuck!" I cried. That felt... divine.

  "Liked that?" he asked, smacking it again.

  More.

  I needed more of that.

  But I couldn't form the words. I just moaned louder this time. My body was acting slutty as hell, even though I still felt so shy.

  "Do you like me slapping your pussy?" he rasped, slapping it again.

  Did he really want me to say that?

  "I... I..."

  "Fucking say it."

  "Do... Do it again. I'm going to cum again," I whimpered.

  Instead of slapping me again, he slowly circled his fingers around my pussy, teasing, testing, torturing me with slow pleasure.

  He kissed my neck, and the way he looked at me-it was like he was trying to resist something. Like he wanted to kiss me so bad he could hardly breathe.

  But he paused.

  "Look at me," he said.

  I met his gaze.

  And he claimed my lips, hard.

  I kissed him back like I needed to taste him to survive. His lips were soft, wet, and laced with alcohol. He tasted like trouble and obsession. So addictive. So dangerous. So perfect.

  I shoved my tongue into his mouth just as he slipped a finger inside me.

  And I whimpered into his mouth.

  Fuck. I fucking whimpered.

  He spanked my pussy again and my body jerked.

  "Please..." I moaned into his lips. The kiss was eating me alive, and so was the pressure building between my thighs.

  It would be wrong to flip me over and fuck me right now.

  Right?

  That would be wrong...

  "Tell me you like it," he growled.

  My body begged for him. So I answered.

  "Ah-yes! I like it! So do it again," I cried, trembling.

  "Good girl," he moaned, spanking me one more time before pushing a finger back into my pussy.

  "I-ah! Fuck!" My body thrashed against the sheets as he finger-fucked me, slow and deep.

  "Cum for me, Sunshine. Like you fucking need it."

  "Ahhh! Fuuuck!! Daddy I'm cumming again!" I cried out, my body clenching around him as my second orgasm shattered through me.

  Two orgasms.

  From his hands alone.

  And did I just... call him Daddy?

  "Aww... Daddy, huh?" he murmured with a teasing smirk as he kissed the corner of my mouth. "I like the sound of that."

  I felt my lashes flutter, my chest rising and falling with every exhausted breath. My body felt boneless weak, wrecked, and soaked in satisfaction. I had my first and second orgasm today.

  "I'm Felix, by the way," he whispered, his voice deep, gentle now. "And can I know my sunshine's name?"

  But I couldn't respond. I was already drifting half-asleep, floating on a cloud of pleasure and disbelief. My lips parted to speak, but all that came out was a small breathy sigh. I just had a mind blowing sex, wait, we didn't really have sex, his cock never entered me, his fingers were what he used to take me to heaven. Just imagining the kind of paradise he will take me, made me wet.

  Felix chuckled softly under his breath, brushing my damp hair away from my face with a tenderness that didn't match the wildness of what we'd just done. His fingers lingered there for a moment... then slowly slipped away.

  I felt the bed shift as he got up, and I barely registered the soft sound of water running.

  He was in the bathroom.

  I could hear him moving, the low clink of glass, the rushing of warm water. I didn't open my eyes, just lay there, still throbbing, still buzzing, still trying to remember how the hell we got here-and how I would ever return to normal after this.

  Then I heard his voice, low and rumbling from the bathroom doorway.

  "Tomorrow... I'm going to enter you," he said, matter-of-factly. Like it was already decided. Like he was telling me the weather forecast. "I'll make you feel it..... every inch of me."

  My eyes fluttered open slightly, my heart kicking hard in my chest despite how spent I felt.

  My thighs instinctively clenched at the promise.

  And then the water splashed again. The door creaked gently. The scent of soap and steam drifted into the room.

  I lay there, completely undone, feeling the ghost of his hands on my skin.

  Felix.

  He had a name now.

  But I didn't even remember giving him mine.

  And yet... somehow, he already owned me.

/Esme/

  My whole body ached as I tried to turn over. Every inch of me throbbed with a sweet soreness that reminded me of the night before. I'd had the most amazing dream at least, I thought it was a dream. Every sensation still lingered like heat in my blood, like magic on my skin. The way his hands had moved over me, the way I came apart twice under his touch...

  And then I heard his voice.

  "I see you're wet this early, Sunshine."

  That deep, sinful voice yanked me straight out of my haze. I opened my eyes immediately and sat up, only to see him Felix standing by the bed, his fingers glistening as he slowly licked them clean. The same fingers that had just been inside me.

  My breath caught. My thighs clenched on instinct. I wanted him to do it again.

  The memories of last night came crashing back in a rush of heat and shame. My body remembered everything.

  "I'd love to have you again," he murmured, his voice like velvet against my skin, "but your phone has been ringing nonstop. Pick it up before we continue."

  I nodded, dazed and weak, reaching for my phone. Without even checking the caller ID, I swiped the green icon to the left and brought it to my ear.

  "Where the fuck are you?"

  Dave's voice hit me like cold water sharp, loud, and full of worry and anger. It snapped me out of the moment.

  The sexual tension vanished in an instant. Panic replaced it.

  "I-I'm coming," I stammered and hung up immediately, my heart now racing for very different reasons.

  I jumped off the bed, the sheets clinging to my naked body, and looked around frantically.

  "I have to go," I muttered, trying to stay calm as I scanned the floor. "Where the hell are my clothes?"

  Felix stood there, completely relaxed, watching me with a smirk tugging at his lips. He crossed his arms over his bare chest and leaned against the wall like he had all the time in the world.

  "You won't find them."

  I froze and looked at him. "What?"

  "I ripped them of you last night remember," he said casually. "If you want clothes to wear... give me your number first."

  I blinked at him, unsure if he was being serious or just a smug bastard. "You're kidding."

  "Nope," he replied, still calm. "That's the deal."

  I wrapped the bedsheet around myself, my nerves shot. "This isn't a game, Felix. I need to go. Now."

  He took a slow step toward me. "Are we meeting later?"

  I didn't answer.

  He raised a brow. "Still not talking?"

  I looked away, cheeks flushed with shame, lust, and confusion. My life felt like it was spinning out of control. All I wanted was to run but my body still burned for him.

  "I'm not going to beg," he said after a moment. "But I'm not giving you your clothes either."

  I groaned, biting my lower lip as I stood there awkwardly. "Seriously?"

  He tilted his head. "Seriously. I deserve your number at the very least, don't you think? I made you come twice with just my fingers, Sunshine."

  My knees nearly buckled at the memory, and he saw it the way my body still responded to him even in panic.

  I grabbed a pen from the desk nearby and scribbled my number on a sticky note. I slapped it into his palm, refusing to meet his eyes.

  "There," I snapped. "Now give me some clothes to wear."

  With a crooked smile, he walked to the dresser and pulled open a drawer. He tossed a long shirt folded in my direction. "Pleasure doing business with you."

  I caught them mid-air and turned my back to him, throwing them on with shaky hands. I needed to get out before I did something even dumber.

  As I reached the door, I heard his voice behind me low and promising.

  "Tomorrow," he said, "I'm going to be inside you."

  I froze for a split second... then left without looking back.

  I slammed the door behind me, heart hammering against my ribs like it was trying to escape. The hallway reeked of old wood polish and stale air, but all I could smell was him. His scent clung to my skin warm, intoxicating, sinful.

  What the hell did I just do?

  My fingers trembled as I think about who among my friends could have drugged me, It was no time to feel guilty. No time to process anything.

  Who among is capable of this, I get that they want me to have a sex life filled with orgasm but do they really have to go that low?

  I tried to run from my thought about Felix.

  But no matter how far I ran, how fast I moved, he followed me. In my thoughts. On my body. Under my skin.

  That voice.. deep, commanding, sinful.

  Those hands possessive and knowing.

  His lips.... God, the way they made me moan in the dark.

  A complete stranger.

  And the most insane part?

  I didn't even know his real name. Felix, that's all he told me. I had kissed him, let him get on his knees for me, let him own me like he had the right and I still didn't know a damn thing about who he really was.

  And I wanted to.

  Jesus.

  Even now, my thighs still ached from the way he'd stretched me open. I could still feel the ghost of his fingers inside me... then the image of him licking those same fingers clean. Like I was his favorite dessert. My nipples tightened embarrassingly beneath my bra at the memory.

  I made it back to my apartment, practically sprinted into the bathroom, and slammed the door shut behind me. I leaned into the mirror, clutching the sink, searching my reflection for... I don't know. A reason. A sign. A woman I recognized.

  But all I saw was someone unraveling.

  My towel clung to my still-damp skin, and for a second, I thought if I stared hard enough, maybe I'd find the girl I was before last night.

  But all I could think about was him the way he whispered against my neck: "Tomorrow, I'll be inside you."

  What the actual hell was I doing?

  My phone buzzed on the counter, breaking me from the spiral.

  Dave.

  Of course.

  I groaned, grabbed the phone, and hesitated before I tapped the screen. His name glowing felt like a punch.

  Dave: Hey babe. I hope you haven't forgotten we're having brunch with my dad today. It's by noon. Dress nice, please. I love you.

  Shit.

  My stomach twisted.

  Brunch. With his father. The man he never talked about. The one with too many failed marriages and even more secrets. Every time I asked, Dave would just smile and say, "You'll see when you see."

  Well. Today, I guess I would see.

  And here I was freshly fucked by a masked stranger, sore in all the right and wrong places, still tasting last night in the back of my throat. And I was supposed to play the part of the sweet, devoted fiancée? Like nothing happened?

  Dave was good. Sweet. Reliable. Safe.

  He loved me.

  And I owed him this brunch.

  With a heavy sigh, I stripped off my towel and stepped into the shower. The water ran hot, burning almost. I stood under it for too long, hoping it could scrub the shame off my skin. But even after, I still felt... branded.

  I got dressed soft yellow sundress, some light makeup, and my hair pulled back tight to look neat and composed. I stared at myself in the mirror before leaving, making sure I looked "nice."

  And I did.

  But inside?

  I felt like a lie.

  --

  The restaurant was tucked inside a private hotel sleek, discreet, expensive. The kind of place with clean marble floors, linen tablecloths, and champagne glasses that sparkled like diamonds under the soft light.

  I spotted Dave before he saw me, standing tall outside the entrance in his crisp button-down shirt, wearing that familiar, easy smile he always gave me. That boy-next-door charm I used to find comforting. Look at him alone remains of why I love him so much.

  He stepped forward and kissed my cheek.

  "You look beautiful, baby," he said, his voice warm, gentle.

  I forced a smile, looping my arm into his. "Thanks, honey." My guilt was killing me.

  Everything about him was perfect. Stable. Safe. So why did my skin still feel raw from the way Felix touched me? Why did I feel like I was wearing someone else's body?

  Dave chuckled nervously, still holding my hand like I might float away. "Nervous about meeting my dad?"

  Before I could say a word, he answered for me. "Not at all. You'll charm him like you do everyone."

  I nodded again, letting him guide me forward, but my stomach churned.

  We were led through the lobby and into the dining area a private table near the window, set for three. A chilled bottle of wine waited for us in a silver bucket beside the table, its condensation dripping slowly onto the pristine white cloth.

  "He should be down to meet us any second," Dave said as he reached for the bottle. "He likes to make an entrance."