Seducing Mr Lukers: A night to remember

Anesthesia’s POV

At twenty, I had everything looks, money, and a reputation strong enough to make people step aside the moment I entered a room. Being the daughter of one of the country’s wealthiest men meant no one dared to cross me. Yet behind the flawless makeup and the luxury, there was a quiet ache of loneliness I could never drink away.

“Street Mash-Up” was the only place that felt like freedom. The bass, the lights, the haze of perfume and wine — it drowned out the noise in my head. Tonight was no different. I laughed too loudly, danced until my feet ached, and emptied one glass after another until the world began to tilt.

When it was time to leave, I knew I couldn’t let my driver or my mother see me like this. I ordered a ride from the app, slipped out the side door, and stepped into the cold night air.

The car description on my screen blurred: GWM Voleex C3.

“Right,” I muttered, squinting through the drizzle. My gaze drifted to a sleek black vehicle parked near the curb GWM Tank 700. Close enough. Luxurious. Even better.

I pulled the door open and slid into the back seat.

“Hi,” I said, trying to sound sober. “Take me to Los Lira Hotel.”

The driver didn’t respond. I frowned and leaned forward to tap his shoulder. When he turned, the air inside the car shifted instantly.

He wasn’t a middle-aged cabbie.

He was… magnetic.

A sharp jawline, perfectly styled brown hair, eyes the color of warm whiskey — and a presence so intense it made silence feel dangerous.

“Did you hear me?” I asked, breathless without meaning to be.

His gaze met mine through the mirror.

“Los Lira Hotel,” he repeated, deep and unhurried. The car began to move.

For a moment, I forgot how to breathe. The city lights slid across his face, highlighting the line of his throat beneath that black tuxedo. He didn’t look like someone who waited for orders.

He looked like someone who gave them.

I tried to look away. Failed.

He caught me staring and asked softly, “Is there something on my face, young lady?”

Heat crept up my neck. “No. I just thought you looked… familiar.”

He smiled slightly, like he already knew exactly what I meant. The air between us grew heavier.

“Do you often get into cars that aren’t yours?” he murmured.

“Only when the driver looks like you,” I shot back, surprising even myself.

His low chuckle rolled through the car like velvet against skin.

By the time we reached the hotel, the rain had stopped, but the storm inside me hadn’t. The car idled in the shadows of the parking lot. He turned slightly, his eyes dark and unreadable.

“Are you sure this is where you want to be?”

Maybe it was the wine.

Maybe it was the way his voice grazed over my nerves like silk.

I leaned forward until our faces were inches apart.

“I’m sure.”

Before I could say another word, he leaned in his breath warm against my neck — and bit gently at my left ear, the most sensitive part of me. A shiver shot through me. Heat coiled low in my stomach.

His hands slid under my dress, slow but deliberate, tracing every inch of my skin like he already knew my body better than I did.

“Do you like that?” he whispered against my throat, leaving a soft kiss there.

I couldn’t control myself anymore. I grabbed him and began unbuttoning his shirt, needing to feel the hard lines of his chest beneath my hands.

“You’re quite a wild cat,” he murmured with a mocking chuckle.

“Yes, I am. Now kiss me. You’ve driven me insane.”

And then he was in the back with me.

I pulled him closer, tasting his lips, kissing him like I’d been starving for this. In the dim hotel lighting filtering through the windows, I saw him unfasten his shirt with swift, unbothered movements.

The rest blurred into heat and instinct.

He moved with a mix of control and hunger, pushing me back gently but firmly, his lips trailing down my neck until my breath trembled.

He didn’t rush but he didn’t hesitate either.

Everything he did was deliberate, confident, devastatingly skilled.

I had no idea who he was, but he knew exactly what he was doing.

The world outside the car dissolved.

Only the heat, the closeness, the rhythm of his breath and mine remained.

I didn’t know when exhaustion finally pulled me under. All I remembered was falling asleep against him, tangled together in the most uncomfortable, reckless way — but it felt perfect.

Next Morning

Sunlight warmed my face. I frowned and rubbed my eyes, still half-asleep. Turning to the side, I came face-to-face with someone impossibly handsome.

My breath hitched.

God… am I dreaming? Did some angel fall asleep beside me?

I pinched myself.

“Ouch!”

Not a dream.

I bolted upright, staring at the unfamiliar man beside me — bare-chested, toned, and breathtaking in a way that made my stomach twist.

Someone could be this handsome? Impossible.

I’d met countless attractive men — none had ever seduced me to bed. But this man?

He had me begging for more.

Pressing a hand to my forehead, last night flooded back in fragments.

The car.

His mouth.

His hands.

My name on his lips.

His speed, his strength, his impossible skill—

I slept with a man in the backseat of a car.

A man who wasn’t even my driver.

A man who looked like danger wrapped in silk.

Worst of all?

He wasn’t only handsome…

He was good in bed.

Too good.

And I didn’t even know his name.