KISAREL.

The cab stopped at the far end of the airport, where regular passengers weren't even allowed. Through the tinted glass, I saw the silver body of Mr. Stark's jet gleaming under the floodlights, his initials, O.S., painted near the tail.

I wiped my face, grabbed the small luggage I'd thrown together after getting home from the betrayal scene, and stepped out.

Since Moon's words about my choice of clothes, I began to doubt myself. I felt... Stupid and inadequate. I'd always thought I was beautiful - Jace said so a thousand times - but maybe I was never enough. Maybe I was the joke everyone else saw, and he just forgot to tell me. For all I know, I might even be the ugliest woman on earth right now.

I tried to take off my glasses – not that they were medicated or anything – but I felt naked without them. So, I left them on. Trying to be who I was not made me feel even more stupid.

The air was cold, but the moment I saw him, heat crept up the back of my neck.

Mr. Ocean Stark.

He stood beside the stairs to his jet, hands in his pockets, suit pressed within an inch of perfection. Even from here, he radiated total control.

He wasn't the kind of man you looked at twice.

You looked once - because you couldn't help it - and then you looked away before he caught you staring.

Six foot three of controlled violence in a perfectly tailored suit. Broad shoulders, dark hair brushed back in a way that didn't dare fall out of place, and those eyes... cold, emotionless, like they could undress you, dissect you, and dismiss you in one motion.

"Good evening, Mr. Stark," I managed.

He didn't answer right away. He just looked at me, a faint arch in his brow like the sound of my voice had interrupted his thoughts, and he was deciding whether to forgive that or not.

Then his gaze flicked down, slowly assessing me.

Jesus.

I greeted his best friend, who was also his MD. "Mr. Hanold."

He managed half a smile before turning back to his phone.

Of course, no one noticed this pathetic little girl trying to hold herself together during the hour-and-a-half flight. No one ever did.

Inside the hotel lobby, I adjusted my blazer and forced my hands to stop trembling as I faced the receptionist.

"Reservation for Mr. Stark, Mr. Hanold, and Miss Harry," I said, forcing steadiness into my voice.

The woman smiled politely, then glanced at the fourth member of our group, Mandy, Hanold's girlfriend. Perfect and glossy as ever.

"Oh, they're together." I gestured toward them, pretending confidence I didn't feel.

God, my eyes were becoming teary again. I just needed a room, a bathtub, and a place to cry without witnesses.

After a moment, the receptionist frowned at the screen.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but there's no reservation under Miss Harry. Only Mr. Stark and Mr. Hanold."

My pulse jumped. "What?"

Behind me, that low, rich, controlled baritone rolled out.

"Then make one."

Mr. Stark.

I swallowed hard, staring at the counter. Even his voice had a certain effect on me that I had come to categorise as "fear," even though it doesn't fit that category.

The clerk looked uneasy. "I'm sorry, sir, but we're fully booked for the night."

Of course. The National Electorate Conference will be taking place tomorrow. Every powerful name in the country was under this roof tonight..

My stomach dropped. I must have forgotten to complete the reservation while I was busy calling Jace... before everything fell apart.

I didn't dare turn around. I could feel Mr. Stark's gaze drilling through my spine. My palms were damp; my mind blank.

"I... I'll find something... Another hotel..."

"Hand us the key cards."

I finally turned around, and the look in his eyes told me one thing clearly: I'd pay for this mistake.

*

Staying in the same room with Mr. Stark didn't even give me the alone time I looked forward to spending in a bathtub. I barely showered properly. My instincts kept flying around:

What if Mr. Starks opens the bathroom door?

What if I see a ghost and run out naked?

What if...

Every stupid possibility raced through my head until my heart started skipping beats.

The idea of sharing a suite with the infamous Ocean Stark made every nerve in my body hum with panic.

Although I cried a little, wiped my face, and did what any heartbroken idiot does at 11 p.m. - googled how to get over betrayal.

The answers were ridiculous.

'Go out with friends.' I had none.

'Do something spontaneous.' I could barely breathe.

'Revenge sex.'

I snorted out loud at that one. Revenge sex? With who? Jace was the only man I'd ever let close.

No male friends, no flings, no one. Just me - pathetic, faithful, and now apparently obsolete.

By the time I pulled myself together, Mr. Stark was seated on the couch, surrounded by files and his laptop, a half-empty glass of something dark sitting beside him.

His sleeves were rolled up, revealing strong forearms and the faint outline of veins that matched the precision in his movements. Everything about him was neat and intentional. And I always resist the urge to admit how illegally handsome he was. I guess I had no right to even admit such a thing. It felt so wrong.

I sat in the armchair beside him, careful not to brush against him. The distance between us was small but heavy, like sitting beside a thunderstorm before it breaks.

My hands wouldn't stop trembling. My chest still ached from everything I'd tried to bury, and somehow his calm made it worse.

He hadn't looked at me once since we entered the suite, not even during the flight.

That was the thing about Ocean Stark - he could make you feel completely invisible while reminding you you're being watched.

We worked in silence. I was sorting out schedules when my phone buzzed beside me. Once. Twice. Then again - Jace's name flashing on the screen.

I froze, praying my boss hadn't noticed.

"Turn that off."

His voice. That voice again. It sent a trail of goosebumps running down my arms. Thankfully, I was wearing a big polo shirt, so he wouldn't see it.

I fumbled for the phone, thumbs slipping as I silenced it. I didn't dare look up, but I could feel his eyes on me now.

There was silence, making it difficult to hide the soft sobs and sniffles that were choking me and threatening to spill.

"If you can't compartmentalize, you'll never last." His chilling voice said, and I paused.

For a second, I wasn't sure if I'd imagined them. My heart skipped, then tripped over itself.

I looked up slowly.

His eyes - cold, grey, unreadable - met mine.

I swallowed a dry lump as a tear escaped my eye.

"I... I'm sorry?" My voice came out thin, breaking on the last syllable.

He leaned back against the couch, posture unbothered. The top buttons of his shirt were undone, the faintest shadow of muscle visible beneath. His veins shifted under the light as he picked up another file.

"Boyfriend issues?" he asked without looking away.

My cheeks burned. "Yes... Uhm..." I sniffed, wiping my tears off as they fell freely now. "Yes."

He studied me like he was analyzing numbers, not a person.

"Caught him cheating?"

I was tempted to scream and tell him, 'Yes, I caught him cheating with your fiancée!' but, just like Moon said, I could never. I owe her family that much. So, I swallowed and just gave a polite nod.

He didn't blink. "You'll live. Pull yourself together and get back to work."

And that was it. No softness, no sympathy. Just dismissal.

Still... he'd asked. Ocean Stark had actually spoken to me beyond orders. For a man who could end careers with a phone call, even that tiny fragment of attention felt dangerous.

Was that concern or a warning? I couldn't tell.

My throat itched to keep the next words that threatened to come out of my mouth, but it failed, because I heard my own voice ask the most stupid question ever.

"Do you think I am weak, Mr. Stark?"

He froze mid-page. A faint crease appeared between his brows.

For a heartbeat, the world seemed to stop with him, and my pulse was the only sound I could hear.

"Do you?" he asked, still not looking up.

"Do I what?" My voice wavered.

"Think you're weak."

He slowly peeled his gaze from the files, and his chilling eyes rested on me. The movement was so small, but it felt like the whole room leaned toward him. I almost slid into a panic attack.

"I don't know," I whispered. "Maybe."

"What are you trying to prove, Miss Harry?"

"I'm not sure," I said.

He studied me then like he was trying to decide if I was unstable or simply honest.

"You're crying over a man who isn't worth the data it would take to delete his name from your phone," he said. "That's not weakness, that's misallocation of focus."

I almost laughed. "So what would you recommend, Mr. Stark? Reallocate my focus?"

"Yes."

His tone was flat and businesslike, as if we were still talking about quarterly losses. But something in his eyes shifted - interest, maybe curiosity. It made my stomach twist.

I ran my tongue over my dry lips, "Mr. Stark...?" I called, but he only answered with his steady eyes on mine, "Do you..." My voice faltered, but I forced it out, "Do you really love my cousin?"

I knew I was playing with fire. Such boldness? I'd never displayed it anywhere near my boss before. And I was terrified he was even entertaining me.

"No."

Two letters. A brutally honest answer that shocked me.

I blinked. "What?" My whisper cracked. "Why? But, I thought..."

His mouth curved in something close to contempt.

He stood to his feet, "You want to know the truth?" He asked flatly, and I nodded, my gaze lifted up to meet his.

"Because my heart only belongs to one woman. I've been searching for her for years now. And when I find her...?" He paused, and some muscle in his cheek twitched, like he was holding back more words.

"What? You'll dump my cousin?" I found myself asking... Not because I care. But maybe I also wanted Moonie to suffer the way she'd made me suffer all these years. And I wanted her suffering to come naturally.

He exhaled through his nose, "Your cousin is strictly business." With that, he made to walk away.

The finality in his tone should have shut me up. Instead, something hot and reckless surged up my throat.

I stood as he turned to go. "Wait."

He stopped. Slowly, he turned his head and gave me that look that meant, 'the audacity?'

Too late to back down. My heart was pounding so hard it hurt.

"Mr. Stark... I need a favor from you." I stood in front of him now, feeling so small and breakable before him.

"I want..." I swallowed hard, hating the tremor in my throat. "I want to do something that reminds me I'm not weak."

His brows narrowed like he could read through me.

He didn't answer. Just watched me. The grey in his eyes looked darker now, colder, like deep water that could drown a person without a ripple.

"Take me tonight. I want to forget all about Jace. Please don't say no."

KISAREL.

The silence stretched so long it felt like punishment. He didn't blink. He wasn't even looking at me anymore. He kept looking over my head like looking at me up close would kill him.

I know this was reckless. I mean... The last time I did something this reckless was when I took a bullet for a stranger without even thinking.

"Careful," he said finally, "You have no idea what you're asking for."

I drew in a shaky breath, "I know exactly what I'm asking for," I whispered.

That was when he looked at me fully. For the first time ever, I really understood why everyone feared Ocean Stark. He didn't even need to speak to feel like danger. All he had to do was listen.

I'd never looked at him so up close before. And my heart refused to stop racing when his eyes pinned me to the spot.

"I don't fuck my employees, Kiss."

My knees almost buckled at the way he bit off the word Fuck. Heat crawled up my neck to my cheeks. And... had he just called me Kiss?

Moisture stung the corner of my eyes. "No one would know... I swear... Just this once. Let's be like two strangers who just hooked up for the night," I swallowed, searching his eyes.

This was a stupid move, but I couldn't go back now.

His gaze flicked down, then back to my eyes. I could almost feel the war happening inside him.

"You don't get it, Kisarel." He took a step forward, closing what little space there was between us. My breath hitched as I tried to look away, but his fingers quickly caught my chin and forced my gaze to remain on his.

"I'm getting married to your cousin," he said softly. "And I don't do scandals. Go to bed, hug your pillow, and cry about your boyfriend, before you ruin both of us."

The closeness made me dizzy, like stepping too close to fire. The crown of my head barely touched his lower chin.

His voice was firm, but his pulse? I could see it beating hard at the side of his neck.

"No one will ever know," I said and dared to push further, "Unless you're scared you can't match up with the man I am trying to forget... Sir?"

With those words, I saw his eyes turn a shade darker, and something dangerous swirled in their depths.

Before I could form another word, Mr. Stark wrapped his fingers around my neck and slammed my back against the nearest wall.

"Do you always play with fire this way?" His voice had changed. Whatever cold professionalism lived in it during office hours was gone. Now it was rougher, colder and more detached.

"Only when I've already been burned," I whispered.

I don't know where that came from. Some part of me that had stopped calculating risk somewhere between Jace's bedroom floor and this hotel room. Some part of me that had decided that if tonight was going to hurt regardless, it may as well hurt for something I chose.

He looked at me for a long moment. Something moved in his jaw.

His thumb pressed lightly against my pulse point and I felt my own heartbeat betray me. "You know what you want. You don't know what I take."

His eyes moved over my face with no urgency at all, which was somehow more frightening than anger.

His voice dropped to a near growl, "You want to get fucked by me?" He said through clenched teeth, like a lion whose ego was just tested. "Do you know what it means to get fucked by me?"

My hands flew to his wrists, struggling against his grip. Instead, his free hand moved to the wall beside my head, and he leaned in slowly until there was almost no space left between us. I could feel the heat coming off him, and my heart was doing something embarrassing and uncontrollable that I was certain he could feel in his palm.

"That little cunt of yours will get bruised by me. I don't make love. I'll fuck you so hard you'll beg for me to stop." He pressed me harder into the wall, "When I fuck, I don't stop because you cry. I don't stop because you can't take it. I stop when I'm done. I'll bruise you. Break you open until you forget every man who ever touched you before me. You won't walk right for days."

His breathing turned ragged.

"I won't just fuck you, Kisarel. I'll get inside your head and twist until the thought of anyone else feels wrong. I'll become the ache you can't cure, the ghost you'll beg to haunt you again."

He leaned closer, his breath hot against my mouth.

"One night won't be enough. Not for me. I want you to know that before you make this decision, because I won't pretend otherwise in the morning."

My breath caught.

"So..." His teeth grazed my jaw as his fingers tightened on my throat. "You still want to fuck with me, Kiss?"

God, his threats terrified me. But right now, the rational part of me was dead. All I wanted was to forget about Jace tonight.

"I want to see you try, sir," I blurted out the dare, pushing him to his limits.

For a second, he didn't move. Then his hand slid to the back of my neck, and he crushed his lips against mine, kissing me so hard I almost lost my breath.

"You'll be sorry you made this decision."

***

OCEANS.

Fuck.

I'd been doing everything to keep the little, hot nerd-looking girl out of my line of sight, and fate kept shoving her back under it.

When the board thought she was due for promotion and deemed my office the right place to insert her, that was when I knew I was fucked.

Since the moment I set eyes on this girl, my cock forgot what dignity was. Always jerking like a damn teenager every time she walked in.

The smell of her hair brings back memories that had been tormenting me for the past six years.

I was getting married to her cousin. And she was getting married to a man whose head I could put a bullet through, just for being the one who owned her.

I fought that lust I felt toward her. I buried it. Smothered it.

Because the last time I got involved with an employee, it nearly cost me my legacy. Since then, I'd drawn a hard line. No mixing business with anything that had a pulse and a paycheck I signed.

But right now - seeing the same woman who'd pulled something wild and starving out of me - standing in front of me, desperate, trembling, asking for the one thing my body had always craved? That was a temptation straight from hell that even the finest of God's angels would fall for without looking back.

I tried to turn her down. I fucking did.

That should have been the end of it.

I tried to turn away, because that's what a man with functioning self-control does. I had work on the table. I had a flight the next day. I had a rule I shouldn't ignore, and I had exactly enough scotch in my system to drown out that rule, which meant I needed distance more than I needed to look at her.

But she pushed really hard. And my control - usually bulletproof - buckled.

"You'll do every fucking thing I say without question. Understood?" I warned her, and she nodded hesitantly, "Use your words, Kiss."

She swallowed, and my tongue darted out and licked the movement that formed in her throat.

She shuddered, "Yes, sir."

"Good girl."

I pressed into her mouth again. Harder. She tasted like heat and salt and bad decisions. Her scent and softness tried to swallow me whole.

Fuck.

I was doing all I could not to break her. She seemed so fragile, the crown of her head barely scraping my jawline.

I pulled her off the wall and broke the kiss before I lost the rest of my senses. She was panting. Her small, plump lips were red and swollen. Her eyes were blown wide behind those damn glasses.

I took them off. " Don't ever wear that shit again."

Up close, without the frames, she was lethal. Big blue, almond eyes. Innocence and naivety dancing in them.

I took her lips again, letting my hand roam all over her body - flat over ribs, curve of waist, the line of her hip - and what I felt made me curse against her lips. Those loose skirts and gowns she wore to work were lies. There was nothing shy under there. Every inch of her was pure fucking heaven.

A full, high ass in my palms, hips that filled my grip, a body cut to make a man forget his rules.

Jesus. I almost lost it.

Her fingers clutched my shirt, tugging desperately. And when she whimpered, I knew it was over.

I pulled away again, forcing a breath past my teeth. My body screamed to stay pressed to hers, but I needed space. Needed to see exactly what I was about to burn my life down for.

Her chest rose and fell in ragged little jerks.

"Strip," I growled and stepped back to the couch, pouring myself a glass of whiskey as I sat and watched her fingers shake as she reached for the hem of that oversized shirt. God. Who the hell wore something like that to bed? A shapeless tent that only made me want to rip it off.

The shirt hit the floor. The shorts followed.

She stood before me, naked, with some white cotton pants that did it's best to cover every corner of her ass like it was a secret she was trying so hard to hide.

Her bra didn't look like something I'd choose for a young girl, if asked.

But the body in those underwears...? Any man alive would kill to have that body under him, screaming his name.

I dragged a thumb across my lower lip, staring at her. My cock throbbed so hard it hurt.

"Kneel." My voice dropped into something darker than a command.

She narrowed her brows, a thousand questions probably swirling in her head, but one look from me, and she dropped all that hesitation. And the moment her knees hit the floor, something in me went feral. That submission. Fuck.

Her hands were at her sides. Head bowed, hair sliding forward like a curtain.

Christ. Seeing her like that - trembling, skin goose-pimpled, chest rising and falling as she tried to breathe - made my restraint splinter.

I set the whiskey down without looking away from her. My palms flattened on my knees as I leaned forward.

"Now, crawl to me."

OCEANS.

reached down and fisted a handful of her hair, tilting her head back until she had no choice but to look at me. Her eyes - big, blue, scared, wanting - locked with mine. All four things at once. That combination was going to be a problem for my self-control.

"Good girl," I murmured. "You obey so well."

I released her hair but kept my hand at the back of her neck, "Take the bra off. Slowly. And don't break eye contact."

Her jaw dropped. "Wh... What? Uhm... Mr. Stark..."

"What?" I bit out, my patience already running thin, "You thought we'll fuck with your clothes on?"

Her trembling hands rose, fumbling with the clasp. The straps slipped off her shoulders, and the fabric fell away, and whatever composure I'd been managing since she knelt on that floor took a significant hit.

I dragged my thumb slowly from the hollow of her throat down to her collarbone, tracing the line of it like I was memorizing something I'd be tested on later.

Christ.

My vision turned pitch black. Lust oozed off of me.

I'd imagined this more times than I'd ever admit to anyone, including myself. But imagination had apparently done a poor job. I reached for her, cupped her breast in my palm, and felt something in my chest do something I didn't have a clinical term for. I almost lost myself to the way it filled my palm - so soft, warm, full, round, perky...

She shuddered the moment she felt my palm against her breast. My hand left the first breast and took the second one, fondling slowly as I watched every fucking reaction she gave.

Then she moaned, and the sound of it seemed to startle her back into the room.

Her eyes snapped open, "Mr. Stark..." She said breathlessly, something close to a whimper escaping her throat.

"Oceans. Call me Oceans." I corrected her, my eyes never leaving her gaze. "We're well past Mr. Stark."

"I - I can't." She shifted, some belated instinct for self-preservation kicking in. "We shouldn't be-"

"Kneel, Kiss."

She stilled as I counted my words menacingly, my eyes darkening further. "Undo my belt and take out my cock." She looked up at me, her eyes wide, "Now."

She licked her bottom lip before taking a deep breath and reaching for my belt. Her tender hands fumbled with it until she undid it.

"Take it out," I ordered when I sensed a slight hesitation. She heaved a shaky sigh before dipping her hand into my trousers. I felt her warm palm clasp around my cock, which was already raging hard, and immediately, I felt every muscle in my body make a simultaneous argument for abandoning whatever remained of my patience.

She gasped, her body stiffening the moment she touched it - the kind of involuntary shock that told me she finally realized what she was dealing with.

She was about to pull out her hand after a gasp, but I was faster than her. I reached out and grabbed her hand, pressing it further against my cock.

"Where are you going?" I held her hand firmer, "Not what you expected?"

She lifted her eyes, and I could already see the awe and shock on her face. "Mr... Uh... Oceans. I..." She whispered, the words fumbling in her mouth.

"Take it. Now."

She slowly pulled out my cock, and the moment her gaze rested on it, I saw the way her eyes widened.

"Oh, God." She let out a shaky whisper and a gasp, one palm covering her lips.

I'd seen the way women react the first time they ever feel or touch my cock. The sharp inhale. The hesitation. The quiet awe that came before the hunger. But watching it happen on her face, for reasons I wasn't going to unpack right now, felt different.

I know I had an impressive length, but come on. Not that she was a virgin. And, stupid Jace was tall and a little well-built. One would think he has the kind of cock that won't make his woman gasp at another man's size.

She looked like she didn't know what to do with what she had in front of her.

"Go on, Kiss. I'm not exactly the patient type," I fisted the back of her hair and nudged her toward my painfully throbbing cock.

She twirled her tongue over the tip, and a cold shiver ran down my fucking spine at the contact. Slowly, she began to suck, and I lasted about four seconds before I came to an honest conclusion: she had absolutely no idea what she was doing.

"Fuck." I tightened my grip on her hair so she could look up at me. "Have you never taken a cock in your mouth before?"

Her red, glossy eyes held mine. She shook her head slowly.

She looked so innocent that it was almost painful to look at.

"Why?" I bit out.

"I... Uh. Jace doesn't..." She looked away, but I yanked her hair harshly, making her turn her gaze to face me again.

"Was he your first?" I asked, and she nodded hesitantly.

I regarded her a little longer and let her hair go. She looked confused when I stood up and left her on her knees.

"Where are you going?" She stood up and hurried after me, but I walked straight into the bedroom without sparing her a glance. "Wait. Did I do something wrong?"

"Get some sleep, Kisarel. You'll feel better by morning."

She was too fucking innocent for a man like me. I couldn't ruin her innocence this way.

She was quiet. Then I turned around - because the silence had a texture to it that I didn't trust - and fuck the shit out of me. Not only was she still standing there, but she had pulled off the cotton pants she was putting on, leaving her totally bare before me.

My eyes traveled to the small V between her legs, and I literally felt my resolve snap in half.

"I won't regret this. I've made up my mind..." She tried to remain more defiant than she looked, but I had finally crossed the line where I had stopped reasoning.

Rage and lust hit my bloodstream at the same time, and I crossed the room in three strides, took her face in my hands, and crashed my mouth into hers in a desperate kiss again.

The little moans she made shot straight through my cock, and it jolted awake again, a little harder this time around.

I wrapped my hand around her slender waist and pulled her flush against my chest. My palm found her breast, and the moment I cupped it, all the years I'd spent talking myself out of pulling her into my office and fucking Jace completely out of her system felt like the most expensive restraint I'd ever exercised. And it was finally worth it.

I lifted her petite frame up and led us to the bed, where I carefully placed her and climbed over her.

I parted her thighs with my legs, still exploring every corner of her warm mouth, directing my fingers to that wet, dripping spot between her legs.

The warmth and wetness there almost undid me. I sank a finger slowly into her core, and fuck, it was so tight it clenched around my finger and refused to let go.

"Sure you've been fucked before?" I whispered shakily as I began to pump in and out of her tightness, taking her rosy, beady nipples in my mouth one at a time.

She moaned and tried to close her legs against the pleasure, but I pushed them further apart and kept my finger working inside her, watching her come undone one inch at a time.

My cock felt like it was going to split from the pressure building there. The eagerness was becoming an actual problem.

I felt her walls clench harder around my finger, and I knew exactly where she was headed.

I yanked my finger out immediately, and her eyes snapped open from the emptiness she felt.

"W...why?" she breathed, desperation sitting plainly on her face without any attempt to hide it.

"My cock is a little jealous, Kiss. He can't wait to say hi to his new plaything."

I positioned my tip at her entrance, and she shuddered, placing both hands against my chest.

"Scared?" I said almost in a moan, and she nodded hesitantly.

I smiled - and from the way her eyes tracked the expression, I could tell she hadn't seen that particular thing on my face before.

I took her both hands in mine, securing them above her head, "Don't worry. You'll get used to it. Just keep your eyes on me."

She needed, but I paused for a second.

"Are you sure about this?" I asked her, even though I wouldn't pull back if she says no. "If we do this, there'll be no going back."

"Yes, sir." She replied, and somehow, that response made my cock thicken further in response, which at this point felt almost involuntary.

I could only hope she knew what she was committing to, because the moment I claim her, the whole world, including Jace, loses its claim on her.

She becomes mine.