All Chapters of One Night with the Young CEO: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

The echo of his tongue still clung to her skin. She told herself it was gone, washed away with the frantic shower she had forced herself into, but her ear still tingled. Her thighs still clenched at odd intervals, as if her body refused to forget.She was late. She was never late. Every second in the OR was precision, timing, control. But as she strode into Hamilton Medical City, heels clicking against polished marble, her pulse betrayed her, fast, erratic, unruly. She had layered her mask back on, tailored coat, hair sleek, lips tinted with authority. But underneath, she was cracked porcelain.She clutched her bag tighter and pushed forward through the sea of scrubs and lab coats. She needed normalcy. She needed silence.And then she saw him.The world stuttered.He didn’t just walk into the hospital, he commanded it. A dark suit sculpted to perfection, shoulders broad, trousers cut in a way that forced the imagination lower. His crisp white shirt gaped at the collar, just enough to

The auditorium of Hamilton Medical City pulsed with quiet anticipation, the kind of hum that happens when too many egos in white coats and polished suits gather in one place. The board meeting was more crowded than usual. Everyone knew today was special: the formal introduction of a Hamilton heir stepping directly into the executive board.Sarah Smith sat rigidly in the second row, her back pressed against the chair as though perfect posture could shield her from what was about to happen. Her fingers clutched her notepad so tightly that the edges bent under her grip. She told herself she was prepared, that she was here as a doctor, nothing more, nothing less.But her heart betrayed her, beating loud and uneven against her ribs.Don’t be ridiculous. You’re a professional. He is just another executive.But her body knew better. It remembered. The warmth of his bare skin under her palms. The sound of his low, restrained moan when she touched him. The brazen curl of his toes against the h

Sarah tore off her gloves the second she stepped out of the operating room, latex snapping sharply against her wrists. The sound felt too loud, too accusing. She tossed them into the biohazard bin and braced herself against the stainless-steel counter, head bowed, breath coming shallow.Her reflection in the polished surface mocked her. Renowned cardiothoracic surgeon. The woman who’d performed impossible bypasses, reconstructed shattered arteries, saved lives with precision that left colleagues awestruck.And yet, today her hand had trembled. The suture hadn’t landed cleanly. A junior resident had caught the slip, her correction masked as deference, but Sarah knew. The attending knew. Everyone in the OR knew.A crack. Small, but visible.Her pulse hammered. She pressed her fists to the counter as if force alone could steady her shaking.The door hissed open behind her.“Doctor Smith.”The voice curled through the room, velvet laced with amusement. Her body stiffened.Not here. Not no

The sterile hum of the OR machines filled the room, steady and merciless, the only witness to her undoing. Sarah lay bound on the table, every strap biting into her skin as her body quivered with anticipation and dread.Liam bent close, his lips brushing against the delicate curve of her ear. The faintest touch, the lightest breath, and Sarah’s lungs froze.“Do you hear that?” he whispered, his voice silk and sin. “The sound of your pulse. Thundering. Begging me to taste it.”Before she could answer, his tongue flicked against her earlobe. Slow. Wet. Deliberate.Sarah gasped, the sound strangled in her throat. Her eyes squeezed shut as a shiver cascaded through her entire body. She turned her head instinctively, trying to escape, but he followed, his mouth fastening on her ear with hungry patience.He nipped, sucked, and licked, each movement deliberate. Every graze of his teeth sent shockwaves down her neck, across her chest, and lower still.“God—” she hissed under her breath, bitin

Liam’s mouth hovered lower, his breath hot between her thighs, the straps holding her in place trembling with every desperate pull of her muscles. Sarah’s chest heaved, her lips parted, her muffled whimpers still echoing in the sterile room. Her feet glistened with his worship, her body undone, trembling on the edge of surrender.“Sarah…” His voice was rough, his smirk dangerous. “I’m not done. I want to taste all of you—”But the shrill alarm ripped through the OR speakers, sharp and merciless.“Code Red. Trauma incoming. ER. Code Red.”For a split second, the world froze. Sarah’s heart slammed against her ribs, her body jolting under the straps.Her training surged back like a tidal wave. The shame, the heat, the trembling, all shoved aside by the iron instinct of a surgeon who’d spent decades answering that call.“Liam—” she gasped, her voice breaking but firming as she tugged against the restraints. “Let me go. Now.”He hesitated, eyes dark, torn between hunger and the authority o