Prologue.

EMILY.

I followed my friend Daya through the crowded club, the music pulsing like a heartbeat all around us. We'd managed to score an invite to the

VIP section, and we were buzzing with anticipation, curious to see what all the hype was about.

As we climbed the stairs, I spotted him—a tall, dark figure surrounded by a glowing entourage of admirers.

He lounged on a plush couch, eyes scanning the room like he owned it. And maybe he did. He had the kind of presence that commanded attention—like a man who always got what he wanted, when he wanted it. Then his gaze found mine, and a shiver ran straight through me.

I tried to look away, but his eyes dragged me back in. He was surrounded by people, yet somehow, they faded into the background. All I could see was him.

Daya nudged me, snapping the moment.

“You gonna keep eye-fucking him all night, or are we going to say hi?” she teased.

I hesitated. “Yeah, right. We walk over there, and his friendly little crew probably tosses us out.” Sarcasm dripped from my voice, making Daya laugh.

“Okay, fine... What about him?” she asked, nodding toward a blonde guy sitting solo at the bar.

“No, thanks,” I replied, not feeling the need to talk to anyone. Honestly, I was just here because Daya’s bouncer friend got us into VIP. I couldn’t pass that up.

“Come on, you're killing the vibe. You know we need to get laid,” Daya whined playfully.

“you can I'm good,” I said with a shrug. She rolled her eyes and waved me off.

“Your loss. I’m going to shoot my shot—maybe we’ll have some chemistry,” she said, licking her bottom lip before walking off toward the blondie.

But I couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching me. I didn’t want to look back, didn’t want to confirm what I already suspected. That mysterious man—I just knew it was him.

A wave of tension hit me, thick and overwhelming. “I need the bathroom,” I muttered and slipped away.

The restroom was dimly lit, the music thumping faintly through the walls. As I washed my hands, I caught a reflection behind me in the mirror—and there he was.

His eyes locked on me, intense and unreadable. This time, we were alone.

He walked toward me, hands reaching for my waist. My breath caught. I should’ve pushed him away, should’ve yelled—he was a stranger—but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to.

He leaned in, his lips crashing onto mine without a word. And instead of pulling away, I kissed him back. I drank him in—his scent, his heat. The kiss alone made my body ache. He kissed like he owned me, and I wanted more.

Everything after that was a blur—his fingers teasing me in the back seat of his car, how I somehow ended up in his hotel suite. Logic had left the building.

He turned me around, unzipping my dress. It fell silently to the floor. My bra and thong were gone in seconds. He scooped me up, showering my neck in kisses that made me moan, before laying me out on the bed—bare, exposed, ready.

We hadn’t exchanged more than a few words. Just moans, gasps, and his low curses mixed with praise.

I watched him undress—every inch of him sculpted like a god—but I didn’t have time to admire the view. He flipped me over, wasting no time.

He pressed my face to the pillow and raised my hips.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard, princess,” he growled. I shivered in anticipation.

He slid his tip into me slowly, teasing—and then slammed into me. The air left my lungs in one sharp gasp.

And , fuck, he meant every word.

He took me like he owned me—rough, relentless, divine. I loved every filthy second. We moved through positions like it was a dance only our bodies knew, and I think I blacked out somewhere after my fourth orgasm. My legs were jelly, my body wrecked—in the best way.

Fuckn' perfect sex.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Morning light filtered through the curtains as I stirred awake. The sound of running water echoed from the bathroom. Reality seeped in—the club, the kiss, the suite, the sex.

He was in the shower and I... I needed to leave.

Something about him felt dangerous. Enticing, but dark. I didn’t want to find out what strings came attached.

I slid out of bed, moving quietly as I gathered my clothes. My heart raced, not from fear—but from adrenaline. One last glance toward the bathroom, then I slipped out the door.

The elevator ride down felt like coming up for air.

As I stepped onto the street, I felt a rush—of freedom, of thrill. The night had been wild, intoxicating, unforgettable. I’d done something reckless... and I didn’t regret it.

I hailed a cab and sank into the back seat, letting the city blur pass the window.

But at a red light, my thoughts wandered—back to him. His hands, his voice, the way he made me feel like the only girl in the world. My lips curved into a smile.

Just what I needed, a night of raw, unfiltered passion. No names. No strings. Just desire.

As the taxi rolled forward, I leaned back, still feeling the heat of his touch lingering on my skin.

Alive. Free. untamed.