"I know." His voice is dark with approval. "You're excited."
He's right. I've never felt anything like this—this complete surrender of control that somehow makes me feel more powerful than I ever have. When his hand slides between my thighs, I arch against him with a gasp that echoes off the windows.
"So responsive," he breathes. "So beautiful."
The praise makes me dizzy. I'm completely at his mercy—and I've never wanted anything more.
When he finally releases my wrists and turns me to face him, his eyes are dark with desire. "Bedroom," he says, and it's not a request.
I nod, not trusting my voice. He lifts me effortlessly, carrying me through the suite like I weigh nothing. When he lays me down on the massive bed, I feel like I'm floating.
"Look at me," he commands as he positions himself above me. "I want to see your eyes."
I meet his gaze as he moves against me.
I don't want gentle. Not tonight.
"Don't hold back," I whisper, my nails digging into his shoulders. "Please."
"Careful what you ask for,zaika."
There's that word again. I want to ask what it means, but then his fingers are sliding over my clit. My back arches and I feel like I’m going to explode. He teases until I can’t take it anymore.
"Please," I whisper when I can't take any more teasing, any more of his careful attention that brings me to the edge without letting me fall.
His mouth covers mine as he pushes two thick fingers inside me.
"I need—" I can't finish the sentence, can't voice what I need because I've never needed anything this desperately before.
"I know what you need," he says, positioning himself between my thighs. "I know exactly what you need."
And he does. God, he does.
When he finally takes me, it's with a possession that steals my breath. He moves like he owns me, like my body was made specifically for him. The connection is immediate and overwhelming—not just physical, but something deeper. Something that feels dangerous in its intensity.
"Eyes open," he commands when I let my eyes drift closed, overwhelmed by sensation. "I want to see you."
I force my eyes open, meeting his gaze as he moves inside me. There's something fierce in his expression. Like he's as surprised by this connection as I am.
We move together with an urgency that builds and builds until I'm sure I'll shatter from the intensity. When release finally claims me, it's with a force that leaves me shaking in his arms.
When I step out of the bathroom, he’s waiting. His naked body pushes me against the window. He takes me against the glass while the city watches. Thirty minutes after quenching my thirst, he grabs me again. He sits down in a chair in the corner and without hesitation, I drop to my knees in front of him. I explore the taste of his skin while he threads his fingers through my hair.
When exhaustion finally claims us, I'm curled against his chest in the massive bed. I couldn’t go another round if I wanted to. I listen to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat and let myself imagine that this could be more than one night. That whatever this connection is, it doesn't have to end with morning.
I fall asleep to the sound of his breathing, more content than I can remember being.
When I wake up, the sun is streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows. For a moment, I'm disoriented—this isn't my bed. It’s not my apartment.
Then memory crashes back, and I smile, reaching for the man who showed me what I'd been missing.
But the bed is empty.
I sit up, suddenly wide awake, the sheet clutched to my chest. "Hello?"
Silence.
I look around the bedroom, noting his clothes are gone. The bathroom door is open, revealing an empty space. No sound of running water or movement from the living area.
