Chapter Three – Dangerous Games

The morning light hit the hotel room like an intruder, but I didn’t care. My body still burned from last night, every nerve ending alive, every ache from his touch a delicious reminder.

I should have felt regret. Shame. Embarrassment. But I didn’t.

Instead, I felt anticipation.

And when I heard a knock at the door, my heart skipped a beat.

I didn’t even wait to see through the peephole. My body knew. My body always knew.

He was back.

The second the door opened, he leaned in, that same cocky smirk on his lips, eyes dark with mischief. “Miss me?”

“Infuriating,” I whispered, trying to sound annoyed, though my thighs betrayed me, pressing together like they had a mind of their own.

“And yet you were thinking about me,” he countered, stepping into the room, closing the door behind him. “I can see it in the way you move.”

I swallowed, heat pooling between my legs, pulse racing. He was right. I had thought about him all morning—the memory of his hands, the feel of him inside me, the way he claimed me like I was his possession.

“I wasn’t—”

“Liar,” he interrupted, advancing toward me. His presence filled the room, leaving no space for resistance. “You’re wet just thinking about last night. You’re desperate, and I like it.”

My chest heaved. He didn’t need to touch me to make me tremble, though the second his fingers grazed my arm, I shivered. His touch was electric, teasing, a promise of what was coming.

“Stop teasing me,” I whispered, voice trembling.

His smirk widened. “Never.”

He circled me slowly, predator and hunter all in one, fingers lightly tracing the curve of my hips, teasing the edge of my thighs. Every touch made me ache, heat rushing lower with every glance, every brush of his hand.

Then he grabbed my wrist, spinning me around until my back pressed against the wall. His lips hovered at my ear, hot and teasing. “I want to see how much you want me,” he murmured.

I couldn’t help it. My hands went to him, tracing the muscles of his chest, feeling the hardness beneath his shirt. “I—I want you,” I gasped. “Please.”

“Good girl,” he growled. “But words aren’t enough.”

His hands slid under my dress, fingers ghosting along my thighs, teasing, exploring, until my body burned with need. He pressed closer, cock brushing against me, teasing, demanding. I was trembling, trembling in a way I had never trembled before.

“Show me,” he whispered.

And I did.

The next moments were a blur of heat and sensation. He pressed me into the bed this time, hands rough and demanding, lips devouring, fingers exploring with unrelenting skill. My body arched into him, shivering, desperate, every nerve ending alive with pleasure.

He kissed me everywhere, from my lips to my collarbone, from the curve of my breast to the sensitive skin behind my knees. Every touch made me moan, whimper, beg.

“You’re mine,” he growled, thrusting hard, deep, each movement precise and unrelenting. “Mine tonight. Mine until you forget your own name.”

I didn’t fight it. I didn’t want to. My body moved in rhythm with him, hips bucking, fingers clutching, nails digging into his back. He was raw, commanding, and I was completely under his spell.

When he slipped a finger inside me while his cock pressed against me, I lost control. My body screamed, and I came in waves, trembling beneath him, my cries echoing through the room. He didn’t stop, fucking me through every shudder, until his release rocked us both, spilling into me with a groan that vibrated deep in my chest.

We collapsed together, bodies slick with sweat, hearts pounding, breath ragged. I should have felt shame. I should have wanted him to leave. But instead, I felt dizzy, intoxicated, addicted.

“You’re unbelievable,” he whispered, brushing hair from my face. “And I’m not done with you.”

I shivered, knowing this wasn’t over. It would never be over.

And that thought… thrilled me more than anything else.