Chapter 1

My vision blurred and swirled. I didn’t know whether it was the alcohol or the sheer intensity of the pleasure I was experiencing.

I buried my head in the pillow, my eyes shut tight. My throat was sore from all the moaning. I might be drunk, but I was fully aware of what was happening. I was being mercilessly fucked by the guy on top of me.

Every thrust he made brought me an immense sensation that took over my sanity. His ragged breathing filled my ears. I wanted to see his face, but I couldn’t bring myself to open my eyes. God, this feels so good.

He muttered curses under his breath and accelerated his pace. The sound of the bed creaking didn’t stop us from going too rough.

“Fuck.”

I moaned as his lips found their way to my neck, biting and sucking my sensitive skin. I let out a long groan as we both reached our climax.

We did it over and over again until we satisfied each other’s libidos.

I woke up sore all over in a familiar room that wasn’t mine.

How did I even get here? The last thing I remembered was getting home drunk and heading straight to my room.

Did he come to my place and bring me here? I hoped no one had seen us enter his room though. The memory of how we ended up here yesterday was hazy at best.

Sitting up made my stomach twist. Damn. I shouldn’t have drunk that much.

I scrunched my eyes and yawned, glancing at the window. I heaved a sigh of relief when I saw it was still dark outside.

I swung my legs over the bed and started hunting for my clothes. The room was dimly lit, making the search frustrating. My fingers froze when I found my boxer briefs ripped to shreds.

He really had no patience when it came to undressing me. I put them down and decided to skip wearing them.

“You’re awake.”

The voice startled me. I spun around to see Kayden leaning in the bathroom doorway, his hair still wet, droplets clinging to his shoulders.

“You should’ve woken me,” I said, trying to sound annoyed.

“You were completely wasted. How was I supposed to wake you when you were out cold?”

This wasn’t the first time something like this had happened. It had become our little dirty secret. And every time it did, I always made sure to leave his room before sunrise.

My eyes drifted down. Even with just a towel covering him, his bulge was impossible to miss.

Calm yourself, Noah. He just fucked you senseless a few hours ago.

“Stop looking at me with those eyes,” he remarked.

I blinked, then let my eyes find his face again. A smug, playful smirk was tugging at his lips.

“Huh?”

“Like you wanted me to fuck you again,” he shrugged.

“Asshole!”

“Just tell me if you want me again. We can do a quick one before you leave.”

My lips pulled into a taunting smile. “No, thanks. Maybe next time, when I need someone to satisfy me again.”

I kept pulling on my clothes, feeling his gaze tracking me with every move. Then I heard him move, the soft thud of his foot against the floor echoing in the quiet room.

“And by the way,” I said, holding up my torn boxer briefs, “could you maybe work on your patience? Stop ripping my clothes every fucking time?”

His gaze flicked to my hand. He raised an eyebrow, the corners of his lips twitching.

“Fine. Just make sure to buy me a ton of boxer briefs afterward. One pair counts as ten.”

“No problem,” he said casually, completely unbothered.

I watched him slide effortlessly into his shirt. Then he perched on the edge of the bed and picked up his phone, fingers flying across the screen with effortless speed.

“Why are you still standing there? Changed your mind?” he teased, his eyes glinting.

“Go check if anyone’s outside your room,” I ordered.

His brows knitted. “It’s four in the morning. Do you really think someone’s awake at this hour?”

“Just do it,” I urged.

He let out a long, defeated sigh and swung his legs off the bed. He moved to the door, nudged it open just a crack, and peeked outside. A few seconds later, he closed it with a soft click.

“It’s safe. You can go now.”

I nodded, moving toward the door, but he rested a hand lightly on my shoulder. I shot him a questioning look. He fished something from his pocket and handed it to me.

“Your phone and wallet.”

“Oh,” I murmured, taking them.

“The next time you get drunk, make sure you go into the right room,” he added with a smirk.

I slipped out of his room, knowing that by the time the sun rose, we’d fall back into our usual routine as if nothing was happening behind closed doors.