Chapter 2

　　Sienna

　　"I highly doubt that will even affect him," I said dryly, letting my eyes roam over him. He didn't flinch. I narrowed my eyes. "And what about the woman Marcus brought home this afternoon? Is she… connected to you?"

　　Nate chuckled, a low, amused sound that made my skin prickle. "You have quite the imagination," he said, shaking his head. "I don't even know which woman he brought home. Honestly, it's none of my business."

　　I let out a short, cold laugh, the kind that carries no warmth. "Then why… why are you here? Why make this offer if you're not even involved?"

　　His gaze sharpened, unflinching, and for a moment I thought I might actually see him calculating my reactions. "Because watching you step on that man earlier… heels, weight, control, it was enough," he said bluntly. His words hit me like a punch and a caress all at once.

　　Heat curled low in my stomach, unbidden. I pressed my lips together, trying not to let the flush of irritation, or something else, show.

　　"Watching me what?" I asked, deliberately neutral.

　　"Step on him like you own him," Nate replied, calm, precise. "And the way you did it… like you were untouchable. Confident. In control. That was enough to make me curious," he added slowly, almost reverently, "about how someone like you would scream in bed while I'm deep inside you."

　　I stared at him, unable to form words. He was dangerous. And for reasons I didn't fully understand, the way he watched me, like he saw more than I was willing to show brought heat between my legs.

　　He leaned back, crossing his arms, and added casually, "If you're going to have sex tonight anyway, choosing me… makes no difference. And you won't have to pay."

　　The audacity made me smirk despite myself. I let my gaze drift to the hotel window, the city lights flickering below like tiny stars. I could feel the weight of his presence beside me, unrelenting.

　　"Fine," I said, finally, turning to face him. "We do it your way."

　　Nate's smile was subtle but approving, the kind that spoke more than words ever could. He stood, moving toward the bed with deliberate ease.

　　"Same hotel," he said, almost as an afterthought. "Separate rooms until then. Play it safe."

　　ROOM NUMBER. Key card. Door.

　　I reached for the handle. My fingers hadn't even brushed the cold metal before a hand, strong, familiar, closed around my wrist and pulled me inside.

　　The door shut behind me with a quiet click, and suddenly the world narrowed. Just him. Just me. The space between us charged, heavy, intimate.

　　"Still sure?" he asked, voice low, deliberate, teasing.

　　I met his gaze. "Always."

　　Nate pushed me against the wall, the impact firm but controlled, like he knew exactly how much force to use without crossing the line.

　　His mouth was on mine before I could steady my breath. Like he had already decided how this would unfold.

　　He pulled my shirt up, revealing my lace brassiere, and before I knew it, he has unhooked it, pulled it off my chest and left my breasts exposed in front of him.

　　Nate almost growled as he stared me. "May I?" he asked, but didn't wait for my answer when he leaned down and put one of my nipples inside his mouth. His other hand grab the other, fondled it, knead it as he suckled on the other.

　　A low moaned escaped my lips when his tongue traced my sensitive tip. "Ah, Nate…" I grabbed on his head and pulled him even closer.

　　I arched my back to meet his every suck, as my knees started to tremble with so much pleasure, Nate kneeled down in between my legs. He lifted my skirt just above my hip and grabbed the garter of my underwear.

　　But before he pulled it down, Nate looked up at me. "In what way you want me to take you?"

　　"In every way," I replied huskily and opened my legs even wider.

　　Nate didn't waste any second, pulled down my panties, and buried his face between my legs. I almost screamed when he sucked on my clit while his fingers were sliding in and out of my wet entrance.

　　"Nate…" I moaned, out of breath. My knees shook in so much pleasure, but Nate instantly held my one leg and draped it over his shoulders. "Fuck, Nate. You're so good… at this...ah..."

　　"Yes, baby, I will fuck you and ruin you later," Nate said in front of my wet mound, the warmth of his breath only added heat to my already aching core. "Don't come yet."

　　I inhaled sharply as I tried my best to hold it, but when Nate's tongue slid inside me. I gasped and came hardly… in his mouth.

　　"Damn," Nate said, looking up at me. "Now I have to punish you."

　　My lips parted. "H-huh?"

　　"On the bed," he said, standing up. "Give me your back. I will fuck you senseless."

　　When the night ended, I was spent. Sweaty and exhausted. My body ached in places I hadn't known would remember how unbearable pleasure felt like.

　　I slipped into the bathroom, the shower hitting my skin like a sudden, scalding wave. Water ran down my arms, my back, my legs, washing away the heat and leaving only the marks as evidence.

　　Small, red impressions of skin against skin. Subtle, intimate, proof of everything I had chosen to do tonight.

　　When I stepped out, wrapped in a towel, the room felt different. Calmer. Safer. But still charged.

　　Nate sat at the small table, dressed in a robe, his posture relaxed but deliberate. Two salads and two cups of coffee were laid out neatly. He gestured toward the chair across from him.

　　"Sit," he said, casually, as if everything that had happened before was simply… ordinary.

　　Hungry, and more aware than I wanted to admit, I sat across from him.

　　The soft buzz of my phone interrupted the quiet. I glanced down. Marcus.

　　I miss you. What's your flight number? I can take the afternoon off to pick you up.

　　I tapped out a reply, smooth, detached: Maya will pick me up.

　　Another message: Why haven't you gone to sleep yet?

　　Just finished work emails.

　　I set the phone down, careful, deliberate, keeping my face unreadable. Nate's eyes followed me, attentive, measuring, like he was cataloging every move.

　　"You must be planning a divorce," he said, casual, but I caught the undercurrent.

　　I didn't look at him. "Pretend you don't know."

　　His smile was faint, teasing, dangerous. "Afraid I might tell Marcus?"

　　I let out a quiet, almost imperceptible sigh. "Just… don't."

　　He leaned back, swirling the coffee in his cup, eyes still fixed on me.

　　We didn't speak again. Not because words weren't available. But because some things didn't need to be said.