16

Ingrid was still breathing heavily when they reached Noah’s car. His grip on the steering wheel was tight as he started the engine.

When their eyes met, they both let out an awkward laugh, traces of shock and wonder still visible on their faces—unable to comprehend how they managed to get through the heat of the moment earlier.

That was crazy. But very, very hot.

"I need to clean myself," Noah said, looking at her meaningfully, gauging her reaction before voicing out what he truly wanted—though he already knew she felt the same.

They both understood what the other was thinking. What happened on the dance floor wasn’t enough. They wanted to feel each other without any barriers.

"W-We can go to my apartment," Ingrid said, swallowing hard.

Noah took her hand. "Are you sure about this?"

"Yes." Ingrid nodded—once, twice, then thrice.

He smiled, lifting her hand to his lips and pressing a kiss to the back of it.

"Was it my clothes tonight?" she asked curiously once they were on the road.

Noah glanced at her briefly. "What do you mean?"

"My dress looks really good tonight. Maybe you were just attracted to me because of it."

"Ingrid, you have no idea how much you’ve tortured me for the past three weeks."

Her eyes widened. "Y-You mean, you have been—" She was too embarrassed to finish her sentence.

"Yes, I have been wanting you," Noah admitted, his gaze fixed on the road ahead.

"W-Why?" she asked in a soft voice.

"Why?" Noah chuckled. "Does there have to be a reason?"

Ingrid shrugged. "I just find it a little surprising," she said.

"What’s surprising about it?"

"You don’t seem like the type to lust after someone like me. N-Not that I’m belittling myself, I mean—"

"You’re very, very hot, Ingrid."

His voice was low and raspy. Ingrid felt her body heat up again. She wanted to be scared of her decision, but the pull of desire was stronger. She was hell-bent on sharing a night of passion with this man. Just one night, and that would be all.

When they arrived at her apartment, Ingrid quickly went to the bathroom to clean herself. Her panties were soaking wet.

Noah, meanwhile, had brought a duffel bag from his car, which contained extra clothes, shoes, and toiletries. He told her he wanted to take a quick shower.

She couldn’t sit still as she removed her shoes in the living room. She was nervous, yet excited. There were many things to consider, but at that moment, the heat in her body overpowered everything else. Ingrid felt like she owed this to herself. She had to take this chance. She felt as if an opportunity like this would never come again—the chance to surrender to pure desire, to give in to raw passion. She shouldn’t have felt like a stranger to this, yet everything she was experiencing that night felt so foreign.

For the first time, she felt truly, deeply desired—not as a mere sexual object, but as a woman. She was wanted so badly. Needed like air. At that moment, she felt like the most beautiful and captivating woman in the world.

She was walking toward her bedroom, carrying her shoes, when the bathroom door opened, revealing Noah wrapped in a white towel.

They both froze in place, neither willing to look away.

She took the liberty to gaze at him—from his face, where lust was still evident, down to his throat as he swallowed dryly. Her eyes trailed over his broad shoulders and chest. But when they finally reached his perfectly chiseled abs, she forgot how to breathe.

God, this man was like… she couldn’t even find the right words. All she knew was that Noah was like no other.

She didn’t realize her hand had lifted on its own, reaching out to touch his body. Her fingers hovered just a foot away from his chest when she snapped out of her foolishness. But before she could lower her hand, Noah caught it. Instead of letting go, he brought it to his chest himself.

"You can touch me," he whispered.

Mouth slightly open, Ingrid looked into his eyes. The need in them was clear—his desire to pleasure her in every possible way. And tonight, she wouldn’t care about anything else but herself and this man, who might as well have been sent to her by the gods of sex.

Ingrid breathed heavily as she felt his skin beneath her palm, her hand trailing down his chest. She heard him let out a short, shaky moan. That was enough encouragement for her to continue. She caressed his smooth, hard skin, memorizing every detail. She had no idea his body was this sculpted. At work, he was always fully covered.

Before her hand could travel lower, Noah grabbed her by the shoulders and pressed her against the wall. She dropped her shoes to the floor.

"Ingrid," he growled before capturing her lips in a deep, hungry kiss.

His hands roamed her body while his lips devoured hers. She arched her back at the sensations his touches brought—every stroke, every squeeze, and every scrape of his nails against her skin.

"You really want me," she whispered when he left her lips and moved to her neck.

"Yes," he groaned against her skin before trailing his tongue down her shoulder and arm. "You know what’s crazy? This all started from a dream," he confessed.

"A dream?" Ingrid asked, gasping as his hand slid under her skirt.

He kissed her shoulder, then lower to her arm. "I dreamed I was fucking you in my office."

Ingrid burst out laughing—only to moan when Noah’s fingers finally found her core.

"Since then, I couldn’t stop wanting you, having dirty thoughts about you. I tried everything to fight it, but I kept failing."

"A-Aah!" she moaned as he started rubbing her slit with his fingers.

She gripped his shoulders when two fingers slid inside her. They locked eyes, both of them breathing heavily, their gazes clouded with lust. She had never felt such intensity before—such an electrifying chemistry that threatened to consume them whole.

"If this is what you call dirty, then I’m willing to get dirty with you, Sir Noah," she whispered before rocking her hips against his hand.