Unexpected Table

    Victoria spent the morning attempting to concentrate on her painting, standing before a large canvas in her loft with a brush in hand. But her thoughts kept returning to Sebastian - the way he’d kissed her goodbye and the rough words he had said to her at the door. Just remembering it made her wet.

Around noon, her phone buzzed.

It was him.

“Come to dinner tonight,” he texted.

“Something low-key. Just a few people. I want you there.”

She smiled and replied quickly, “I have work. Deadlines.”

His answer came instantly. “Cancel them. Wear the black dress from last night. I’ll send a car at seven.”

She stared at the message. Her mind told her that she should refuse - for God's sake, she had real responsibilities. But, then, her body remembered how he felt inside her and how his voice alone could make her ache.

Before she could reconsider, she typed,

“Okay.”

At seven, a sleek black car arrived. Victoria wore the same deep velvet dress from their first night together - tight, revealing her back, making her feel reckless. The car didn’t go to his villa first. Instead, it brought her to an elegant rooftop restaurant high above the city.

Sebastian was waiting at the entrance, flawless in a black suit. His eyes darkened when he saw her.

“You came,” he said, pulling her close, one hand resting low on her back, fingers grazing bare skin.

“That's my good girl.”

He kissed her deeply right there. Victoria melted into him, already feeling herself growing wet again.

“This isn’t a small dinner,” she said when he finally pulled back.

He smiled.

“Plans changed, love. Some important people wanted to meet. I want them to see you.”

He led her inside. The rooftop was beautiful - soft lights, elegant tables, and the city sparkling below. But when Victoria saw who was sitting at the long table, her stomach flipped.

Twelve guests who were powerful figures: renowned actors, wealthy entrepreneurs, a senior politician, and even a top fashion designer.

All turned to look as Sebastian guided her forward.

“Everyone, this is Victoria Stone,” Sebastian said proudly.

“An extraordinary artist who’s going to change the art world.”

They greeted her warmly. Sebastian sat her right next to him. His hand stayed on her thigh under the table the whole time.

Every few minutes, his fingers would squeeze or slide higher, teasing her. Victoria had to press her legs together to hide how wet she was becoming.

The dinner was incredible. The food was perfect - dishes Sebastian had created himself. Everyone praised him. They laughed at his jokes and treated him like a king.

Halfway through the meal, a well-dressed man across the table raised his glass.

“It’s too bad we lost Marco Vale,” he said.

“That man could really cook. He was real competition. But now… Sebastian, you make it feel like there can be no real competition anyway.”

Laughter followed, but Victoria stiffened. She had heard of Marco Vale, the once-celebrated, boisterous and beloved chef whose career vanished just before Sebastian rose to fame.

She looked at Sebastian. He smiled calmly and raised his own glass.

“Marco had skill, but the kitchen evolves. Someone always rises to the top.”

His voice was calm. Too calm for comfort, she thought. His grip on her thigh tightened - It was subtle, but deliberate. It felt like both a warning and a promise. Her pulse quickened. Her excitement now felt tangled with unease.

The conversation moved on, but Victoria could not stop thinking about Marco Vale. His sudden fall, Sebastian’s perfect rise. And now this - her sitting at a table with some of the country’s most powerful people, with all of them looking at Sebastian like he was untouchable.

During dessert, Sebastian leaned close to her, his breath warm against her ear.

“You look incredible in that dress,” he whispered.

“I keep imagining how wet you are. How easy it would be to slide my hand up and touch you right here.”

Her breath hitched. She was soaked, her clit throbbing. Desire burned through her.

“Behave,” she whispered back, her voice unsteady.

Sebastian chuckled softly.

“Never.”

After dinner, the powerful guests rose to leave. They shook Sebastian’s hand like he was an equal and treated him with respect. Some even invited him to their private events. Victoria watched, stunned. This wasn’t just influence. It was power. And Sebastian stood at its center.

When they were finally alone on the rooftop, he pulled her into a shadowed corner, pinned her against the wall, and kissed her fiercely. His hand slipped beneath her dress, finding her drenched panties.

“Look at you,” he growled. “Soaked in front of all those people.”

Victoria moaned softly. She was dripping, and her body ached for him.

“Take me home,” she whispered.

Sebastian smiled darkly then kissed her one more time, a deep and claiming kiss, before he stepped back.

“Tomorrow night,” he said. “My villa again. Don’t make me wait too long.”

Victoria stood there, breathing hard, her dress creased and her panties ruined again.

She was in deeper than she thought.

And the scariest part?

She was loving every second of it.