Handle Me With Care Stranger

“Clair Chen?”

Under the dark staircase that led to whatever was waiting for me, the vibrant voice shook me free from the edge of my anxiety. This place wasn’t built for comfort, only for business. And everyone here clearly meant business.

“Yes, sir?”

I answered sluggishly, my voice trembling in quiet rhyme with my steps as I moved forward, standing before the tall, tattooed man I suspected owned the nightclub.

“A single complaint from him, and you are out.”

He said it plainly, without the slightest hint of mercy, and I nodded even though hesitation burned through my veins. I hated every inch of this situation, but running wasn’t an option anymore. I had already been given to the highest bidder, my best bidder if luck could even be twisted to mean something so cruel.

“Mr. King VIP Room Vee.”

The man muttered to the woman beside me, the one sexily dressed in gold and lace, and she gave him a curt nod before taking my arm gently. I followed her cautiously, my pulse thrumming loud enough to drown my thoughts.

“Careful, miss,” the tiny voice warned, barely audible, and I nodded, dragging my feet into a dark corner. We walked for a few minutes in silence, weaving through shadows until we reached someplace so unexpectedly quiet it felt like a different world, one far removed from the pounding noise of the club.

I stared around, stunned. The place was hideous in its secrecy yet disturbingly beautiful in its design, and I hesitated as I waited for whatever came next, and it did come.

“You can go in now,” she said softly. My eyes burned as they struggled to adjust to the deep darkness of the hallway, and an unwanted but undeniable fear spread across my entire body, making me shiver.

“You’re a lucky girl, Mr. King doesn’t just pick girls randomly,” she whispered, envy sharp in her tone.

Lucky? I disagreed entirely. There was nothing lucky about selling my own virginity.

With reluctant steps that felt like invisible dragging my soul, I gripped the doorknob. It resisted as if warning me to turn back. But there was no turning back. Not anymore.

The past weeks flashed like painful lightning in my head, Mum’s teary eyes on the hospital bed, her soft voice hiding her pain, the helplessness that drowned me as I watched her fight through every day. Her silent cries were what broke me the most. She was the strongest person I knew, and this, this was the only way I could gather the money for her leg amputation surgery.

The thumping of heels echoed behind me, pulling me back to the present. The beautiful woman who guided me here walked away, her dress hugging every curve like it adored her. She was stunning, and I could easily sense she wished she was the one meeting this mysterious man instead of me.

I forced myself to knock, perhaps out of habit, perhaps out of desperate courtesy, but before doubt twisted me around, I pushed inside. A fresh, strangely magical air washed over my face, soothing my tired heart in a way that almost frightened me. This shouldn’t feel calming. I was stepping into a stranger’s room, ready to be used however he pleased. And if there was anything human inside him, I hoped that he’d be gentle.

“Hello,” I whispered.

The tall figure standing in the dim light was unmistakably perfect. I couldn’t see his full face yet, but his physique alone explained the jealousy I’d sensed from the lady earlier.

Without speaking, he moved closer. When his face finally slid into the light, I froze. He was the kind of perfection that made breathing difficult, the kind that only existed in fantasies or dangerously expensive trouble.

“I… I am here to please you, sir.”

My voice cracked. Shame flickered through me, when had I become someone capable of saying such words? I looked up slowly into his eyes, feeling against my will like the lucky girl she had called me earlier.

“Strip,” he ordered, his husky voice rolling over me like a dark wave. Perfect face, perfect body and perfectly annoying.

“What? Now?”

My trembling smile mixed with panic, but his expression remained cold and unreadable, cold enough to make me want to run.

“Yes. Strip.”

It felt like a challenge. One I could easily throw back at him by walking out, spitting at his gorgeous arrogance. But Mum’s pain chained me here. I needed this night. Just this one night.

Slowly, I slipped my shirt upward. My ponytail loosened, strands of hair sticking to my sweaty face despite the coldness of the room.

“Get the pants off,” he ordered, and though everything in me screamed, my body moved. His eyes stayed fixed on me, wide, focused, hungry, yet something told me he wasn’t as calm as he looked. He was trouble. Beautiful, destructive trouble. And I needed to get away from him the moment this night ended.

My hands shook as I gripped the hem of my pants, pulling them down inch by inch, his gaze blazing with an intensity that heated my skin.

“Stop teasing me, girl,” he said sternly, unbuttoning his shirt. My heartbeat stumbled as the white fabric fell from his broad shoulders. His torso was sculpted, rigid, magnetic, and I had to force myself to breathe as he unbuckled his trousers.

“Get your ass over there,” he muttered casually, pointing toward the enormous white bed as if giving an ordinary instruction.

I stepped out of my pants at last, his hungry eyes instantly locked on my underwear. He tilted his head slightly and walked toward me with a slow, majestic confidence that curled my stomach with fear and something dangerously close to desire.

“Get that off too,” he smirked. I hated that smirk. His hand brushed my lips gently, his breathtaking scent sweeping through me like a spell I didn’t want to fall under.

“Please be gentle with me,” I whispered, shameless now, though I doubted gentleness existed in a man like him. But still, begging felt like my last weapon.

He pulled his trousers down, and his hard, rigid beast strained through his boxers. How could a man have this much? It was unfair. Unsettling, overwhelming.

His hand curled around my neck, not painfully, but controlling, and he turned me to face the bed. A soft moan escaped me when his heated flesh brushed my thigh. Then, with startling ease, his thick finger slid inside me, sending me spiraling into a world of need that went far beyond Mum’s surgery, a world of cravings I’d never known I was capable of.

He groaned softly, eyes dark with desire. Without warning, he yanked me back to face him and crashed his lips onto mine, warm, moist, demanding, diving straight into the center of my being.

And suddenly, all I wanted was him inside of me already.