Chapter 3: Complications

Chapter 3: Complications

Theo stilled, muscles locked in place, breath sharp as he stared down at the woman beneath him.

A virgin.

He hadn't expected that. Didn't want that.

This was supposed to be simple—a release, a night of anonymous pleasure in a club built to protect secrets. Yet now, his body was buried deep in her, and the proof of her innocence clung to him.

His jaw tightened. “Damn it,” he muttered under his breath, the anger rising fast and hot.

He didn’t do virgins. He didn’t do complicated.

But Janine didn’t say a word. Her eyes were half-closed, lashes damp with unshed tears, her face turned away. She was breathing in shallow gasps, her lips red and swollen, the mask still clinging to her cheeks. Her makeup was smudged, hair tangled from his grip, and she looked like temptation molded from silk and shame.

Beautiful. Wild. Unprepared.

Theo swore again and began to pull back.

“I’m done,” he said coldly, trying to detach from the heat still coiling in his core.

But before he could withdraw fully, her legs suddenly wrapped around his waist—tight. Firm. Her nails dug into his back.

Theo froze.

“What are you doing?” he growled.

Janine’s voice was barely a whisper. “You can continue.”

His brow furrowed. He leaned down, hovering over her.

“Why?” he asked, eyes narrowing. “You think this is going to earn you a bonus? Or are you planning something… wicked?”

His tone turned sharp, suspicious.

Janine shook her head quickly. “No, sir. I’m not… I just…” She swallowed, her voice trembling. “This is my job. That’s all.”

She forced a smile—broken, sad, brave. “It’s okay. Just one night.”

Her words slammed into him harder than her body had.

Theo stared at her. For a moment, he wasn’t a billionaire, a dominant, a man in control. He was a stranger in a moment that felt like something more. Like guilt. Like possession.

She was lying beneath him like an offering—beautiful, shaking, but refusing to back down. And despite every voice in his head telling him to stop, the heat in his body didn’t listen.

He ran a hand through his hair and muttered, “I’ll deal with this later.”

But right now—his cock was still hard, still inside her, still aching with a need that wouldn’t wait.

Janine winced slightly when he shifted. He caught the expression and stilled again.

“Hurts?” he asked, more quietly now.

She hesitated, then nodded.

Theo’s throat tightened.

He didn’t move for a moment, staring at her flushed chest rising and falling beneath him. Then he leaned closer, brushing her damp hair back.

“Tell me to stop,” he said.

Janine turned her face away again, whispering, “I can’t. I need this.”

He didn’t ask what *this* was—money, control, survival. He already knew.

So he gritted his teeth, adjusted his grip on her waist, and moved—slowly this time. Deep but careful. Her hands clenched the sheets. He felt her tense again.

“You’re tight as hell,” he muttered under his breath, more to himself than her. “Goddamn…”

The discomfort was obvious on her face, but she didn’t complain. She just held on, breathing through it, willing herself to survive this like she survived everything else in her life.

Theo tried not to notice the tears in her eyes. The way her lips trembled. The fire in her chest that had nothing to do with lust.

But he couldn’t help it.

Every inch of her—every instinct that told her to run, and every ounce of strength that made her stay—drew him in like a moth to flame.

He slowed down even more, drawing in a sharp breath as he sank into her again, her warmth dragging him into something deeper than he intended.

She was trying to disappear beneath him—go numb, shut it out. But her body betrayed her. She moaned softly, her hips twitching against his. Theo’s eyes darkened.

“That’s it,” he whispered, voice low and wicked. “Let me in.”

Janine didn’t speak. But her legs stayed locked around him, holding him in place.

Theo’s hands gripped her thighs, hard enough to leave red marks, and he moved with steady force now—strong, deep, controlled. She gasped, fingers fisting in the sheets, body shaking under the weight of him.

His eyes never left her face.

She was stunning like this: messy, raw, overwhelmed. Not from pleasure alone—but from the storm of sacrifice behind it. Her whole body was screaming of someone who didn’t *want* to enjoy this… but couldn’t stop her body from reacting.

Theo’s restraint snapped.

He crushed his mouth against her shoulder, biting gently. His rhythm quickened, hips slamming into hers harder now. Janine cried out, her head tipping back, and Theo lost himself in the sound.

A few more strokes, harder now. Rougher. Then he groaned, long and low, as his body shuddered into release.

He collapsed on top of her, breathing hard, braced on his elbows to avoid crushing her completely.

For a while, there was only silence. Just the sound of two hearts pounding, skin damp with sweat, and the low thrum of music outside the room.

Janine turned her face to the side, trying to wipe away a tear before it could fall.

Theo saw it.

And something inside him twisted.

This wasn’t just another night at the club. And she wasn’t just another woman.

She was a complication he didn’t ask for—but now that he had her, he wasn’t sure he could let her go.