A Night of Turmoil

~Adam's POV~

I looked into the girl's willful face, where the pale moonlight was planting dark shadows over her cheeks. Who in this world was she, and what had bought her up here?

Her disheveled appearance, together with the bitter smell of alcohol on her, made me narrow my eyes. A prostitute? My lips curled in disgust.

Whoever had drugged me thought they were very clever, sending me someone so young and presentable. But why send me drunk? It made no sense.

I glared at her, my patience wearing thin. "Don't say I didn't warn you," I growled, my voice sharp as a blade, though even to my ears the warning sounded as empty as any such threat.

She looked up at me with glassy eyes, lips parted, and I didn't give her the chance to answer. I was already moving, then drew her closer to me.

I cupped her face, and the softness of her skin where my hands lay tempted me, as I crushed my lips on hers.

The skin beneath her, impossibly soft beneath my fingers, there was a flicker of something wild about it that sparked to life inside me. And in some movement devoid of thought, I crushed my lips to hers.

It was electric, bitter with the unmistakable tang of alcohol, yet sweet in a way that left me wanting more. Her lips were warm, unyielding, and soft.

Has she been drinking to lift her spirits? I thought, frowning, and deepened the kiss. But—

She stiffened at once, her small hands pressing weakly against my chest. But even that weak resistance was all it took to fan the roaring fire running through me like liquid flame.

When her lips parted slightly, perhaps to protest, I didn't hesitate. I slid my tongue between her lips, tasting and teasing her, learning every corner of her warmth.

She struggled, her movements jerky and uncoordinated. But then, just as suddenly, she faltered…her trembling fingers ceased to fight against my chest, and her resistance melted away, the ice beneath the flame.

There was a low, shaking emission from between her lips, muffled against my shoulder, something that sent a shiver down my spine.

And then she spoke, venom thick in her voice, "I hate them… I hate them so much. They all betrayed me… betrayals."

Her words slapped me physically in the face and shocked me out of my daze. I relaxed my grip on her and froze.

All at once, her pain came crashing down through the haze in my mind like an axe to the trunk.

"What do you mean?" I rasped, yanking back, and tearing us apart.

My chest heaved with ragged breaths; my heart hammered against my ribcage.

She didn't answer. She just kinda rolled her head back and swayed uncertainty on her feet, like a punch-drunk fighter.

I mean, for the longest time I thought she was going to pitch forward into some kind of swoon, but then her eyelids fluttered open, and she gazed up at me in bleary confusion.

My anger mounted, simmering just beneath my skin. Who the hell was this girl? And why had she been sent to me in such a state?

"Explain yourself!" I barked, my patience fraying.

Rather than answer, she laughed, the sound more broken than amused. Her laughter sent a shiver down my spine.

I cursed, my eyes raking over her. Something wasn't adding up. My gaze dropped to the pocket of her jeans, where the edge of a card peeked out. Without thinking, I reached for it, pulling it free.

My blood ran cold the moment I read the text.

"Merina Downtown," I said, out loud, my eyes scanning over the university ID clutched in my fingers.

My stomach sank as low as the university was stating the relevant facts. She was not one of the sluts those idiots who'd drugged me had provided, she was a student—recent graduate.

What the heck was going on? I almost did something to a drunk stranger?!

I backed away slowly, I clenched my jaw, and glared at her. She swayed on her feet, head tilting slightly to one side as she mumbled something indistinguishable. The weight of what I'd almost done slammed down upon me like a ton of bricks.

"Go to bed," I snapped, the sound flat, icy, as I bit down and forced myself not to take the final step. "You're drunk. You'll be grateful in the morning."

She did not seem to have heard me. Her hand only brushed against my arm with a weak tremble of her fingers, as though she was begging for something but could not do so.

"I don't … I don't want to regret anymore," she whispered, barely audible.

Her words Twisted, like a knife in my gut. In her voice was silent anguish, I could hear the pain from her voice.

"Stop," I growled, tensing.

But she did not. Her hands skated up, brushing over my chest and shoulders, her touch featherlight, maddening. Every single nerve in my body yelled in response, but I would not be swayed.

I growled, reached out, and grabbed her wrists, slamming her onto the bed, and holding her there as she let out a startled gasp.

"Enough," I grated, the sound barely above a rasp.

She struggled feebly, her movements uncoordinated, but I ignored her protests. I bound her wrists behind her back with a towel, knotting them tightly enough to hold but not hurt.

"Wha… what are you doin'?" she slurred, the words a jumble of half-formed syllables.

I didn't answer, wrapping the bedspread around her until she was tightly cocooned. Her muffled cries faded into incoherent whimpers as exhaustion overtook her.

I backed away, running a hand through my hair. My tie was loose, my shirt half undone, and I was soaking in sweat.

She lay flat on her back on the bed, red-faced, her mouth hanging open a little. She looked silly like A petulant kid made to take time-outs.

"Escort," she mumbled again, her voice barely audible, trailing off to silence.

Ignoring her drunk words, I let out a long breath and swung toward the bathroom. Cold water cascaded over me as I stood under the shower, the icy sting barely enough to cool the fire still smoldering under my skin.

The kiss tasted like peace, and now I wonder what it will feel like to go further.

My hand went down with that thought, grabbing my little monster, which had been crying for attention. Closing my eyes at the sensation, I pumped—first slowly, then faster and faster as I was getting there.

My mind thinks of so many things, and then with a last pump, "Fuck! " I grunted, pumped out, and released it all.

I leaned against the wall, catching my breath for a few minutes before getting into the shower.

When I came back into the room, she was asleep, her chest was rising and falling in a rhythmic manner. Her hair lay fanned out around her, framing her face in a way that made her look almost innocent.

I stood over her, jaws clenched, the remnants of frustration and guilt battling within.

"I shouldn't have spared you," I muttered, low and bitter. "I should've given you just what you wanted, made you beg for mercy."

The words hung in still air, an icy promise to no one but myself.