~Sebastian’s POV~
The penthouse of the five star hotel I'm staying at is dimly lit, the citylights spilling on the floor to ceiling. Outside, Los Angeles hums with life, horns blaring as the world moves at its pace. Inside, all I hear is the moans of the woman beneath me. She is moaning like she's paid for it, which in fairness, she is. Her back arches. Her tits bounces with each thrust of my cock. Her lips are parted on breathy gasps as her nails hover near my shoulders, like she wants to rake them down my skin, to mark me. But I don’t allow that. “Don’t touch me,” I growl, my grip on her hips tightening in warning. She whimpers, nodding her head as her hands fisting the silk sheets instead. Good girl. I bury myself deep inside her, and fuck her hard like she’s nothing more than a tight, wet hole for me to use. Her pussy clenches around me. The feeling is so damn slick and hot as her cunt grips my cock like it doesn’t want to let go. I grab her thighs and spread them wider. This position is more comfortable and makes the feeling more intense just how I like it. Her legs tremble and her body writhes as I slam into her harder. She lets out a desperate cry as she is lost in the pleasure. “Fuck, Sebastian…” I shut her up with a hand around her throat, squeezing just enough to make her gasp. Her eyes flutter, her pupils blow wide and her lips parts as she moans for me. That’s better. I don't do names, love, or emotions. Just raw fucking. Just pleasure which is the only thing I ever take from a woman. I shift my angle, pressing my weight into her as I piston my hips, the slick sounds of our bodies colliding mixing with her breathless whimpers. “You take me so well,” I groan while watching the way her body responds, how she’s coming apart with every thrust. She’s close. I can feel it in the way her pussy tightens around me like she wants to milk me, in the way her moans turn high and needy. But for me, it’s just another release. Nothing more. But before she cums, I pull out. She whimpers at the sudden emptiness, blinking up at me in confusion. I flip her onto her stomach, gripping her ass, spreading her wide. “No…wait…” She protests. Ignoring her, I slam back into her in one hard stroke. She screams, her fingers gripping the pillows as I fuck her from behind, my pace fast and hard. Her ass bounces against my hips as slick wet sounds fills the room as I take exactly what I want. Sex is simple. it's easy. It doesn’t ask questions. It doesn’t demand anything from me but this: my cock inside her, my pleasure spilling into her willing body. I reach around, my fingers finding her clit and rubs harsh circles as I thrust deeper. She shatters with a choked sob, her pussy squeezing me so tight it almost fucking undoes me. But I don’t cum yet. I keep fucking her through it, holding her hips steady as she convulses around me, dragging her pleasure out until she’s limp beneath me. Then, I pull her up onto her knees, wrapping her hair around my fist, forcing her to arch her back as I drive into her again. Her moans are hoarse. “Oh my god—” I tug her head back, my lips brushing her ear. “You’re gonna cum again.” She shakes her head, her legs trembling. "I....I can’t...” I thrust harder, grinding against her clit. “You sure will.” She breaks for the second time, moaning as she clenches around me. That tight, wet heat dragging me under, shoving me toward the edge. I grit my teeth, my thrusts becoming faster. Fuck. I bury myself deep, groaning as I spill inside her, filling her up. The aftershocks pulse through her body as I ride out my high, keeping her close and exactly where I want her. When I finally pull out, she collapses onto the mattress, spent and breathless. I don’t look at her. I reach for my phone, which has been ringing for the past thirty minutes and move over to sit on the couch in the room. Lucas's name flashes on the screen. I swipe to answer, my voice still rough from the orgasm that tore through me. “What?” There’s a pause. Then he lets out a slow, knowing chuckle. “Jesus, Vale. Did I catch you at a bad time?” I exhale sharply, running a hand through my damp hair. “Did you call just to be an ass, or do you actually have something important to say?” “Oh, you wound me.” There’s the sound of clinking ice in a glass. “But yeah, I do. Harrington moved the meeting up. You need to be in New York tomorrow.” “Fine,” I mutter, hanging up before he can say another word. The woman on my bed lifts her head, giving me a lazy smile. “Round two?” I toss her dress at her. “Time’s up.” She blinks. “Seriously?” I don’t answer. I’m already heading for the shower. I step into the shower, letting the scalding water wash away the remnants of the night. My mind is already on the meeting and the billions at stake. Sex is a distraction. No strings. No messy emotions. Just raw, primal satisfaction which is the only thing I’ll ever allow myself to feel. For me, business is the only thing that matters because love hurts and leaves. Money doesn't. By the time I step out of the bathroom, I’m already on the phone, booking the next flight to New York. ~~~ *LOS ANGELES INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT* I hate airports. They are a necessary evil. It is always crowded, loud, and filled with people who don’t know how to move out of the fucking way. I navigate through the chaos effortlessly, my mind already on the upcoming meeting. And then-bam! A soft body slams into mine. There is a sharp gasp and the slosh of liquid. I barely register the weight of her hands on my jacket before she yanks me back, her glassy blue eyes flashing with anger. “What the hell?!” she snaps. I look at her. Dark hair. Those big, blue eyes. A mouth made for sin, currently twisted in rage. I see the red clot of blood on her head and I can't help but notice the redness of her check. She looks like a beautiful mess. And she is pissed. Unapologetically so. Interesting. A slow smirk tugs at my lips, my voice dropping to a taunting drawl. “Careful, sweetheart. You’re looking at a man who doesn’t apologize.” Her nostrils flare. I can practically hear the grinding of her teeth. This is not the reaction I'm used to. Most women would have melted by now. They would’ve stammered, laughed nervously, tried to brush it off while subtly preening under my attention. But not her. Instead, she steps forward, closing the space between us. She raises her chin up probably to look intimidating. “And you’re looking at a woman who doesn’t give a damn about your shitty attitude.” A slow pulse of something sharp and unexpected tightens in my chest. This is not lust. It's something else, but whatever it is, I don’t fucking like the feeling. I glance at her for another brief second before walking around her, and I leave, dismissing her like she’s nothing. Because that’s all she is. Nothing. As I stride towards my gate, I feel the weight of her glare burning into my back. “Jerk!” she yells after me before storming to wherever it is she went to. And for some reason… her reaction makes me smile.~Elena's POV ~ I say nothing. Not because I have nothing to say, but because I don’t have the energy for another round of verbal sparring with my insufferable boss. I grip the tablet in my hands so tightly my nails dig into my palms. “Anything else, sir?” My voice is clipped, sharp with impatience and the urge to walk out of his office before I do something we both regret. His eyes size me up in an assessing, amused, infuriatingly composed manner as he rests back on his seat. Then, without a word, he dismisses me with a lazy flick of his wrist. I don’t wait for another word. I spin on my heel and walk out, my pulse hammering as I slam the door behind me with more force than necessary. The moment I’m out, I exhale, shoulders slumping in relief. If hell had an address, it would be Vale Enterprises. And if the devil had a name, it would be Sebastian Fucking Vale. I’ve survived exactly one morning under his rule, and already, I’m convinced he was sent to personally dismant
~Elena’s POV~ Today is my first day at work, and already, I feel like I’m walking into the seventh circle of hell. The nerves hit me the second my alarm went off this morning, and Isa's teasing certainly didn’t help. Neither did my damn brain, which played the events of two nights ago on repeat, torturing me like some sadistic movie director. Every time I close my eyes, I see him. Sebastian Vale. The way his gray eyes locked onto mine. The way his hands gripped my waist, firm, possessive. The way his mouth tasted like whiskey and mint as I leaned in and kissed me.The slow, consuming way his mouth moved over mine that made me weak in the knees. I groan and shove the memory away. It was nothing. A mistake. A drunk, stupid mistake. Except my body doesn’t seem to get the memo. I need therapy. Or maybe a full-blown exorcism. I focus on getting ready for work or perhaps the battle I'm about to embark on because let’s be honest, that's what today is. I put on a high-w
~Elena’s POV~Pain.That is the first thing I register.A head pounding what-the-actual-fuck level of pain.It's a full-scale attack on my skull, hammering away like my brain personally offended the gods of tequila and they’re exacting their revenge with a damn jackhammer.The second thing I register?My stomach.It’s currently staging a full-scale rebellion, twisting and turning like it’s ready to eject every ounce of last night’s poor decisions.I groan, rolling onto my side.I barely crack one eye open only to come face to face with Isa, who is grinning like she just won the goddamn lottery with her head propped on her hand.Oh no.That look never means anything good.I squeeze my eyes shut, praying to the universe to rewind time. Pleading with My brain to try everything in its power to remember the events of last night."Please, please tell me I didn’t do something stupid."Isa hums, stretching like a cat. “Sooo…” She draws the word out, her voice practically singing with delight.
~ Sebastian's Pov ~ I’m not supposed to be thinking about her. I should be drinking, flirting and enjoying my night. But even with a glass of whiskey in my hand and a woman pressing her body against me, all I can think about is her. Elena Carter. I wasn’t expecting to see her name when I looked through the applicants for my personal Assistant. And sure as hell wasn’t expecting her to walk into my office today, looking like sin wrapped in silk. She tried to act unaffected. Like I didn’t get under her skin. Like she didn’t want me. But she did. I saw it in her eyes. That look of something hot before she shoved it down. I drain my whiskey in one gulp. Lucas leans over, smirking. “Boss man, are you actually going to enjoy yourself tonight, or are you just going to sit here and brood like some dark, tortured villain?” I shoot him a look. “I don’t brood.” He snorts. “Right. And I’m a fucking virgin.” I roll my eyes, playing with the metal lighter in my hands f
~Elena’s POV~ Buzz! Buzz! My alarm blares like a siren, yanking me out of sleep like I owe it money. I groan, slamming my hand against the clock until the damn thing shuts up. Then it hits me. Shit. I don't have enough time to get ready for my interview. I don't even have an idea of what I'm going to wear. I bolt upright, my brain struggling to claw its way out of the comfort of the night rest. My legs feel like lead as I drag myself out of bed, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. I step into the living room and it looks like a tsunami has thrown up here. Isa and her latest conquest, a half-naked, tousle haired guy sprawls out on the couch, limbs tangled, looking like they just survived a war… or started one. The room is a fucking disaster. Empty pizza boxes. Beer bottles. Discarded clothes. A red bra hanging off the goddamn lamp. I blink. Then scowl. "Wake up, you hungover disasters!" I slam my hand on the table like a judge delivering a death sentence. Isa l
~Elena’s POV~ The past two nights have been hell. I wake up gasping, drenched in sweat, haunted by nightmares. The news of the baby, the image of Damian and Sophia in that bedroom, it all replays in my head, reminding me of every moment I was blind, every second I was stupid enough to believe in forever. And now, I’m here. Bundled up on this couch, drowning in lovesick misery. The dim glow of my laptop screen flickers across my face, illuminating the painful lie I keep replaying over and over again for the past two days. My wedding video. In the video, Damian smiles as he says his vows. The way he kissed me like I was the center of his universe. Bullshit. It was all bullshit. And yet, I can’t stop watching. That is, until Isa walks in and slams the laptop shut. “What the actual fuck, Elena?!” she scolds me, her honey colored eyes ablaze with pure rage. I lift my head up to look at her. My head is heavy, and my body is sluggish from too much alcohol and too many broken dreams a