Chapter 1 Lydia‘POV

"Go take a shower first. I'll wait for you in bed."

Inside the hotel room, I was dizzy with drink, tugging at the tie of the man in front of me, my eyes glazed over.

The man was a male escort I had hired — tall, well-built, with handsome features. I had spotted him on the dance floor the moment I laid eyes on him.

The man leaned close to my ear, kissing my earlobe and neck, his voice husky and magnetic: "Let's shower together."

"Don't…" His kisses left me dizzy, and I pushed him away as weakly as a little cat.

The man's face carried a look of lingering desire. Right in front of me, he undid the buttons of his shirt, revealing a firm and muscular torso. His eight-pack abs rose and fell with each breath, radiating raw masculine appeal.

I stared with wide eyes, unable to stop myself from reaching out to touch them. God, the feel of it was incredible.

The man grabbed my hand and pressed it in circles against his taut abs, then slowly guided it downward.

I realized what he was about to do and pulled my hand back nervously.

The man looked at me and curved his lips into a smile. "Shy?"

"H-how could I be…" I stammered, terrified he would see through me and figure out this was my first time hiring a male escort.

To keep up the appearance of someone experienced, I cleared my throat a couple of times and put on a serious face. "What's the point of just having a good body? What matters is whether you're good in bed."

The words had barely left my mouth when the man scooped me up by the waist, laid me down on the soft bed, and hovered over me, his eyes burning with desire. "Why don't we find out?"

I hooked my arms around his neck and let my red lips graze against his bobbing throat, my voice low and sultry. "Then you'd better put on a good show tonight."

The man kissed me again — more wild and fierce than any time before. His right hand slipped beneath my clothes, caressing my soft chest, his fingertips lightly teasing my nipples.

I moaned with pleasure. The sound only excited him further. He tore open my clothes and buried his head, greedily sucking at my nipples.

There was some pain at first, but it quickly gave way to an overwhelming sense of pleasure and bliss. My cries grew louder and more frantic, and I felt myself growing wet below.

Sensing the moment was right, the man steadied his large shaft and began probing at my entrance.

I sobered up considerably and reached out to push him away. "Wait — don't rush…"

"But I can't wait."

He was past listening. He pushed straight in, and I felt an instant, tearing pain between my legs.

The man paused, looking at me with surprise. "Your first time?"

I bit my lip and said nothing.

"Why would you do this?" The man pressed a kiss to my earlobe, his voice unexpectedly gentle.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, riding the haze of alcohol, my eyes half-lidded. "I didn't want to give my first time to someone I hate."

The man stilled for a moment, then let out a soft laugh. He slowed his movements, one hand tenderly stroking my slender waist, coaxing my tensed body into gradually relaxing.

Little by little, he picked up the pace — but every thrust came with his careful, seductive kisses, falling on my lips, my neck, my chest, scattered like sparks, each one sending a current through me.

I began moving with him without even thinking, my legs winding around his waist.

We went at it like that for the entire night. By the time I was completely spent, the man still seemed to have endless energy left. He spread my legs apart, ready to go again.

"No more — I can't take it anymore…" I stared at him with wide eyes, crying and begging for mercy.

"Not a chance. You're the one who started this fire — you put it out." The man was absolutely relentless.

He worked me over several more times until nearly dawn, when I finally drifted off into an exhausted, hazy sleep.

……

When I woke again, it was already noon the next day. My entire body ached as though it had been run over by a truck.

I rolled over and saw the man still sleeping beside me.

Only now did I notice just how strikingly handsome he was — a high, straight nose, features sharp and deeply defined. With his eyes closed, he carried an almost sacred, untouchable air of nobility.

God, were male escorts really this high-quality these days?

I couldn't help marveling at the thought. And when last night's madness came back to me, my whole face went hot.

Last night, I'd had a huge blowout with my father.

He was dead set on forcing me to marry Ivor — a man I didn't love — all for the sake of the family business.

Ivor was notorious in elite circles as a womanizer. He'd slept with more women than anyone could count, and I had no desire to marry someone like that. But my father had slapped me hard across the face for saying so.

I ran out of the house in tears and went to a bar with my best friend Linara to drink my sorrows away.

After listening to everything I had to say, Linara was furious. "This is completely unfair. Ivor's slept with God knows how many women — he doesn't deserve you."

I sighed helplessly. "What am I supposed to do? It's what my father wants."

Linara's eyes lit up with a sudden idea. "Since he's such a playboy, don't just hand yourself over to him. Sleep with a few men before the wedding — go wild while you still can."

I stared at her, caught off guard.

Linara shrugged. "What? He can sleep around with women, but you can't do the same with men?"

I'd had too much to drink by then, and what Linara said actually seemed to make some kind of sense. So in a muddled stupor, I wandered over to the bar next door, walked up to a decent-looking man, and said, "I want to hire you for the night. How much?"

Looking back on it now, the whole thing was absolutely absurd.

I gently lifted the man's arm from around me and crept out of bed — only for my legs to give out the moment I stood, nearly sending me crashing back down.

I pulled a few bills from my wallet, glanced at the man's handsome profile, then took out a few more and left them on the nightstand before slipping out in a hurry.

By the time I made it out of the hotel, my legs were barely holding me up. I somehow managed to make it back to the building where I lived, and then, just to be safe, stopped at a pharmacy to buy a morning-after pill and took it on the spot.

But the moment I stepped through the front door, I heard my father Hector's low, heavy voice. "Where were you last night?"

I set down my bag, rubbed my sore neck, and said flatly, "I went to sleep with a man."

Hector froze — and then exploded. "What the hell is wrong with you? You're about to marry Ivor, and you pull something like this now, of all times?"

My stepmother Marlo pressed a hand to my father's chest, her smile saccharine and rehearsed. "Lydia, I'm not trying to lecture you, but if Ivor found out, he'd think I raised you with no manners whatsoever."

I looked at her coldly. "You're not my mother. Since when is it your place to raise me?"

Hector snapped at me immediately. "Watch your tone. Everything we do is for your own good."

"For my own good?" I pointed at Marlo, my voice rising with fury. "If it were for my own good, you never would have brought this woman home and driven my mother to her death."

Hector stared at me, his eyes wide, unable to say a word.

Six years ago, Hector had brought Marlo home and forced my mother into a divorce. My mother couldn't bear the blow. She fell into severe depression, and on a snowy night, she left me forever.

Knowing he was in the wrong, Hector softened his tone slightly. "Let's forget about last night. Just focus on getting ready for the engagement banquet with Ivor next month."

"I'm not going." I refused without a second thought.