Caitlyn
I wake slowly, as if my body isn’t sure it survived the night.
The first thing I notice is the ache between my thighs, a deep throb that flares when I shift against the sheets. The second is the heat wrapped around me. An arm like iron banded across my waist, pulling me tight against a solid chest.
Sebastian.
Memory rushes back in fragments. His hands. His mouth. His body driving into mine until I shattered over and over, until I couldn’t remember my own name or who I am. The way he whispered mine like a vow. The way he looked at me like I was already his property.
I should be horrified.
Instead, I bury my face against his chest and inhale the faint scent of soap and smoke clinging to his skin. My body hums with contentment even as my mind claws for distance.
This isn’t me. I don’t do one-night stands in luxury hotel suites with dangerous strangers. I don’t let men take control of me until I’m begging, sobbing, trembling. I don’t belong in this world of masks and marble and predators.
I belong in my lab. With plant specimens and soil samples and safety.
So why does the thought of leaving feel impossible?
His arm tightens, dragging me closer, as if his body senses my thoughts even in sleep.
I tilt my head to look at him. His mask is gone, revealing the sharp lines of his face.
Strong jaw, high cheekbones, a faint scar near his mouth that makes him look even more dangerous.
His lips are parted slightly, breaths slow and steady, but even asleep, he looks powerful.
And mine.
The word startles me, my stomach twisting. I can’t think like that. I can’t let myself believe that one night of earth-shattering sex means ownership.
Except…didn’t I already admit it?
The memory of my own voice whispers back, trembling but certain. Yes. Yours.
Heat rushes to my cheeks. God, what have I done?
I slip carefully out from under his arm, wincing at the soreness in my muscles.
My legs shake as I stand, and I grip the nightstand to steady myself.
My dress lies crumpled on the floor, torn from his impatient hands.
My panties are a lost cause. I find his shirt draped over a chair and pull it on, the fabric huge on me, smelling like him.
The suite is silent except for the hum of the city outside. I pad barefoot across the carpet, drawn to the wall of glass. The sun has just cleared the skyline, painting the skyscrapers in pale gold. The city looks endless, alive, dangerous.
It hits me then…this isn’t just a private fantasy. Sebastian lives here. Moves here. Rules here. The men downstairs, the predators in masks, the whispered conversations over champagne, they’re his world.
And if I stay with him, they’ll be mine too.
The thought chills me. I imagine myself at his side, watched by men who take what they want and women who give it. I imagine being marked as his, known as his weakness.
Would they come for me? Try to use me against him?
A shiver races down my spine.
Behind me, the bed creaks. “You’re awake.”
I turn to find Sebastian watching me, eyes heavy-lidded but sharp, as though he’s been awake longer than I realized. He looks sinfully beautiful, sheets pooled at his waist, muscles defined in the morning light.
“Couldn’t sleep,” I admit.
He rises, unhurried, prowling across the room with the grace of a predator. Even wearing nothing, he carries himself like a king. When he reaches me, he cages me against the glass, his hands braced on either side of my head.
“You ran from my bed,” he murmurs, eyes narrowing.
“I didn’t run. I was just… thinking.”
“Dangerous habit.” His mouth curves faintly, but his gaze is serious. “What were you thinking about?”
I hesitate, then force the truth out. “That I don’t belong here. That last night was… incredible, but it isn’t my life. I should go back to the lab, back to my sister, back to—”
His hand grips my jaw, firm but not cruel, tilting my face up. “No.”
The word is sharp, absolute.
“You think you can just leave after what happened between us? After I’ve been inside you, filled you, marked you?” His eyes burn. “I don’t fuck and forget, Caitlyn. You’re mine now.”
My pulse pounds. Fear and arousal twist together until I can’t separate them. “Sebastian—”
He kisses me, cutting off the protest, his mouth claiming mine with brutal certainty. My body melts instantly, traitorously, the ache between my thighs flaring back to life. He lifts me effortlessly, pressing me against the glass, his cock hard against my stomach.
“Tell me you’ll stay,” he growls against my lips.
“I—”
“Tell me.”
His hand slides under the shirt I borrowed, fingers teasing between my thighs. My head falls back against the glass, a cry spilling out as pleasure overtakes reason. My body arches, begging before my mouth can form the words.
“Yes,” I gasp. “I’ll stay.”
He smirks, satisfied, and thrusts two fingers inside me, pumping slow and deep. “Good girl.”
The praise wrecks me. My legs tremble, my nails digging into his shoulders as he fucks me with his hand until I’m shaking, clenching, falling apart again against the glass with the city sprawling below.
When it’s over, he pulls his fingers from me carefully, his mouth brushing mine. “That’s settled, then. You’re not going anywhere.”
My brain screams at me to argue, to insist this is madness, that my life isn’t his to claim. But my body is still shuddering, soaked with proof of how easily he unravels me, how much I crave his touch.
I know I should walk away.
But I also know I won’t.
Not now. Maybe not ever.