Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chloe
My hand hovered over the golden door handle, hesitating for a long second, finally turning it.
I stepped inside without knocking, shutting the door before he could protest.
The room was dark, illuminated only by the soft glow of moonlight streaming through the tall windows, tracing a clear path to his side.
Zane stood near the bed, caught mid-motion, undressing as if preparing for sleep. His shirt was already discarded, leaving only his pants hanging low on his hips.
The silence between us stretched and it was heavy, the air turning thick. He stood still, his back to me and the sight of his phoenix bathed in the silvery moonlight stole my breath away.
His head turned slightly, following my movements as I moved further inside the room.
When he finally began to turn to me, I slowly unzipped my dress, letting it fall to the floor.
“Is this what you want?” I asked, my voice low and sultry.
He watched me carefully, as if trying to decipher my question and anticipate my actions but unable to tear his eyes away from me.
I knew I was right. This was what he wanted, and if my life depended on how entertained he was with me, I was determined to use it to my advantage.
I moved closer, taking slow deliberate steps, giving him time to take me in.
And he did. His eyes roamed over my body, absorbing all he could. From my neck, my collarbone, the curve of my stomach and back to my exposed breasts. The only thing I wore was a black thong that I’d left there because I assumed he would love to take something off himself.
But nothing was happening, and his expression was completely stoic. I expected him to be devouring me by now but he remained as still as a statue. This was confusing.
I’d dealt with all kinds of men in my life, but Zane was the hardest to read. One minute, he was all fire, telling me exactly how he wanted to take me, and the next, he was cold, as if nothing I offered could ever be enough.
Not sure which one I was getting now but I refused to be rejected.
His wide, muscled, torso was already exposed to me. My fingers were itching to touch him, so I gave in, starting to explore his chest, feeling the steady hammering of his heart beneath my touch, giving away things his face would never.
His skin burned under my fingertips as I traced the ridges of his muscles, down to the sharp v-lines disappearing beneath the waistband of his briefs. If he was enjoying my touch, I couldn’t tell.
Although his eyes never left mine, his expression never changed, not even flickering when my fingertips dipped low, beneath his waistband.
Tired of not getting the reaction I wanted, I pressed my palms against his chest and shoved him back.
He let himself fall back onto the bed, sitting at the edge.
The rustle of sheets was the only sound in the room as I climbed onto his lap, straddling him.
Moving on top of him, I taunted without touching—at least, not completely—pulling out every trick I had learnt at the club.
I rolled my hips slowly, letting the heat of my body tease his without giving him the satisfaction of full contact. I leaned in, controlling my breaths that would tickle the shell of his ear without my lips ever brushing his skin.
Then I shifted, my back arching, just enough to let him see me run my hands over my own thighs, up my sides, massaging my tits as if performing for an audience of one.
His hands finally move, gripping my thighs hard.
I wasn’t sure if he was trying to steady me there or forcing me to stop but his massive hard-on pressed against my sensitive area, begging to be free.
I rolled my hips against him, feeling every inch of his arousal through the thin layers that separated us, applying just the right pressure.
The sensation electrified me more than I wanted to allow.
A low growl rumbled from his chest, breaking through his restraint as his hand shot up, gripping my jaw with rough, punishing force.
I gasped.
His grip was aggressive, his fingers pressing into my skin, pinning me still as if trying to pull my true intentions straight from my eyes. His pupils dilated, the color turning so dark I barely recognized it, on the verge of losing it and looking completely out of himself.
“It’s me. I’m right here,” I whispered over the pounding of my heart.
My fingers wrapped around his wrist, holding onto him, trying to pull him back to the moment, bringing him back to me.
He didn’t move.
So, I kissed him.
He didn’t pull away, but his lips remained motionless for a long beat until, suddenly, as if something had snapped in him, he parted his lips and kissed me and it was hungry, desperate, almost painful, just like the first time.
His tongue danced with mine, as if we’d done this a thousand times before.
I wasted no time and kissed him back with equal fervor, letting myself be consumed by the incredible heat he left on my lips and I was breathless in seconds. My lungs ached for air as he continued to claim my mouth, relentless and insatiable.
My fingers tangled into his hair, pulling him in, deepening the kiss until I was simply drowning in it.
The heat from his body was traveling through mine, corrupting and stimulating everything in me.
Like a storm sweeping through my entire being, destroying everything I thought I knew, leaving nothing untouched and ready for him to mold me back as he wished.
His lips broke from mine, trailing a blazing path down my neck, my chest, stopping where my heart thundered beneath his mouth.
He lifted me effortlessly to kiss my stomach before he took my breast in his mouth. His tongue flicked over my nipple and my back arched in response.
Desperately, I grabbed the sides of his face, guiding his mouth back to mine.
“How much?” I gasped against his mouth.
His mouth barely left mine as he murmured, “What?”
“How much will this take off my debt?”
The kiss stopped.
His eyes searched my face, trying to decipher if I was serious.
“How much do you want it to be?” he asked, his tone somewhere between challenge and curiosity.
“Five thousand.”
“Five thousand it is,” he agreed without hesitation, as his mouth moved to my neck again.
The casual way he said it hit me harder than expected.
A strange ache settled in my chest, and I immediately regretted not asking for more. And yet… I didn’t think the discomfort had anything to do with the number.
Men had paid to see me before, had offered money for the chance to touch me, to have me. It had been my life before all of this, before Zane. But hearing him agree so easily, even though it was my idea, felt like a blade twisting in a wound I didn’t even know was there.
He wasn’t supposed to treat me like every other man would.
But I pushed past the hurt and I kissed him again, reaching down for his pants, urgently trying to unbutton them. My hands started to shake so violently that I couldn’t get the buttons undone.
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t attracted to him but acting like his whore just to make him happy and get rid of this stupid debt, made me feel sick.
“Fuck,” he growled, the sound thick with frustration.
His hand wrapped around mine, steadying it, stopping my pointless attempts to undo the button.
“Stop.”
I looked up at him, confused. Had I done something wrong?
His thumb brushed gently against my cheek, and only then did I realize I was crying.
A heavy sigh left him, his expression shifting from dark desire to something softer, almost… tender.
A frustrated growl escaped his lips again as he let his back fall onto the mattress. His chest rising and falling with each breath. I didn’t want to see the anger or disappointment in his eyes, so I kept my head down, staring blankly at my clasped hands.
The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating. His breathing slowed, steady and deliberate, while mine remained erratic.
“Why are you crying?”
The question was unexpected, my hands tightened into fists as I tried to find the words, any words.
“I don’t know,” I confessed.
It wasn’t a lie. I truly didn’t understand the mix of anger, shame, fear, and whatever else was tangled up in knots inside my chest, the constant suffocating tightness that had wrapped itself around my heart and found a home there.
“You’re not just a debt to me, Chloe,” he said after a long pause. “Stop behaving like that’s all you are.”
He wasn’t looking at me, his gaze remaining fixed on the ceiling. He’d never looked regretful for putting me in this position, but he was starting to sound not that indifferent either.
Suddenly, he reached out and grabbed me by the elbow, pulling and guiding me down until I was lying against his chest. His strong heartbeat was steady beneath my ear, a comforting sound that seemed to calm my nerves in a way I didn’t expect.
A foreign sense of safety…
Something I hadn’t thought I’d ever truly felt before.
An unexpected act of kindness by a man who wasn’t supposed to have a shred of it in him at all.
I closed my eyes, willing myself to relax. Part of me knew it was wrong to find comfort in this, but after a lifetime of neglect, after years of living in survival mode, constantly looking over my shoulder, didn’t I deserve to cling to something that finally made me feel safe?
Even if just for a moment.
Even if it was him.
I sighed. I shouldn’t have felt safe with him, but I did.
I shouldn’t have been grateful, but I was.
Mostly, though, I felt like an idiot, trying to seduce him for all the wrong reasons, to use my body as a bargaining chip when what I really wanted was something real.
And him not taking what I so easily offered, showed me that maybe, just maybe, he might be looking for more than just a body beneath him too.
“You don’t have to let me fuck you if you don’t want to,” he said suddenly. His eyes still glued to the ceiling as if he couldn’t—or didn’t want—to look at me. “I didn’t bring you here for that.”
His words made my chest tighten, and I didn’t know how to respond.
I was supposed to be playing his game, using whatever means necessary to survive it and use it to escape. But lying here, with his calming heartbeat beneath me and the steady rise and fall of his chest, I could feel my resolve softening.
“Thank you,” I managed to say but the words felt weak compared to what I was feeling.
He didn’t respond.
But his arm tightened around me slightly, almost imperceptibly, pulling me closer and it meant everything to me in that moment.
And for the first time in a long time, I let myself breathe.