Chapter 5

He came down from the car and walked calmly to my side of the car and opened the door for me. I sat there, refusing to come down. My fingers dug into the strap of my bag like it was the only thing anchoring me to reality.

“You’re not allowed to force me into your mansion, sir,” I said. The word sir slipped out without permission, my voice betraying me, shaking under the weight of my fear.

He didn’t answer right away. He just looked at me.

Not angry. Not amused.

Just… unreadable.

“Out,” he commanded.

The single word landed hard. Final. His face didn’t change at all, and somehow that scared me more than if he’d raised his voice. My heart skipped, then slammed against my ribs, panic flashing through my mind in sharp images, knives, blood, the alley, his calm eyes as a man died at his feet.

I was already in the lion’s den. I knew it.

So I moved.

Slowly, reluctantly, I slid out of the car, my legs weak beneath me. I clutched my bag to my chest like it could protect me, like it could hide how exposed I felt standing there in front of him.

The door slammed shut behind me.

I flinched.

The sound echoed in the open space, sharp and loud, and he didn’t even look at me as he turned and started walking toward the massive doors ahead. Tall. Controlled. As if this world belonged to him.

I hesitated.

Just for a second.

Then I followed.

Every step felt like a mistake I couldn’t take back.

Inside, the door closed behind us with a soft, heavy click. The sound settled deep in my chest.

My mouth fell open.

The interior was dark—black walls, black floors, black furniture. Everything was sleek, expensive, and cold. The only color came from the long gold curtains that draped the tall windows, glowing softly under dim lights. The house felt alive in a quiet, dangerous way, like it was watching me.

I took another step and bumped straight into something solid.

His chest.

I gasped softly, my hands flying out to steady myself. I hadn’t noticed he’d stopped. My eyes lifted slowly, dread and heat tangling together in my stomach.

He turned.

The space between us vanished in a breath.

My heart raced, fear and want crashing into each other so hard it made me dizzy. His eyes locked onto mine, dark and intense, stripping me bare without touching me at all.

His hand came up. Slowly.

His fingers brushed along my jaw, light at first, like he was testing me. My breath hitched. I hated that my body leaned into the touch before my mind could catch up. Hated how my skin reacted to him like it recognized something dangerous and wanted it anyway.

Then, without warning, the ground disappeared.

He picked me up like I weighed nothing.

A startled sound tore from my throat as instinct took over. My legs wrapped around his waist, my arms clung to his shoulders, my body reacting before fear could stop it. My bag slipped from my grip and hit the floor with a dull thud, forgotten.

His lips crashed into mine.

Hard. Demanding.

The kiss stole my breath. I tried to push him away, my palms pressing weakly against his chest, but he only pulled me closer, like he’d expected my resistance. Like he wanted it.

The taste of him filled my mouth, sharp and intoxicating. My thoughts scattered, my anger, my fear, the memory of him walking away for four days—all of it blurred under the force of his mouth.

Fuck me. So I kissed him back.

The moment I did, a low groan rumbled from his chest, vibrating against mine, and it sent a shiver straight through me. It sounded like relief. Like hunger.

I forgot everything else.

I forgot how exposed I’d felt in his office. Forgot the humiliation. Forgot how angry I’d been.

All I could feel was him.

His hands tightened on me, squeezing my ass, grounding me against his body. A soft, broken sound slipped out of my mouth before I could stop it. Embarrassment flashed through me, but it didn’t stop anything.

The kiss deepened, grew messier, and hotter. My hands moved on their own, from his shoulders to his neck, into his hair, down his back, touching everywhere I could reach, like I needed to make sure he was real.

He started walking.

I barely noticed at first.

He didn’t break the kiss, didn’t slow, just carried me like I belonged there, like this was natural. The house blurred around us until he reached a table and lowered me onto it gently.

The contrast made my chest ache.

His lips were still on mine, his breath heavy, his hands gripping my thighs, my ass, keeping me in place. When he finally pulled back, our lips barely separated. I could feel his breath on my mouth, warm and steady.

I swallowed, my voice coming out small. “You can’t just eat me on your office table and disappear for days without any word—”

He kissed me again, cutting me off, stealing the words right out of my mouth. When he pulled back this time, his forehead rested against mine.

“Little angel,” he murmured.

The name curled low in my stomach. I bit my lip, my heart pounding.

His voice dropped, deep and rough. “Do you want me to ruin you?”

My breath stuttered. My body betrayed me, leaning closer as my mind screamed warnings I couldn’t hear clearly anymore.

“I… umm, we can’t—”

I froze when I felt his hands slide down between my thighs.

A sharp breath left me, my thoughts fracturing. Heat flared low in my belly, sudden and intense, and I hated how fast my body responded.

“Ruin me, please,” he growled.

The words didn’t sound like a request. They sounded like a command turned inside out.

“Say it.”

I shook my head weakly, my heart racing, my lips trembling. My mind told me to stop, to pull away, to remember everything that was wrong about this.

“Say it!” he repeated, louder this time, darker. His fingers pressed against my clit through my jeans, firm enough to make my knees weak.

I gasped.

I was already damp, my body giving me away completely.

“Ruin me, please…” I begged, the words falling from my mouth like a confession I couldn’t take back.

His lips curved into a slow, dangerous smirk.

“That’s my girl.”