‼️ Warning: sexual tension, adult themes, and chaotic heroine energy ahead."
"Wet dress, red lingerie, and a billionaire who was seconds away from losing control."
The mansion looked huge, fancy, and totally boring compared to what I had in mind. I was still shouting my new jam at the top of my lungs, tossing my arms like I was conducting an orchestra only I could hear.
"SWITCHIN' POSITIONS FOR YOUUU—!"
Sterling, the poor guy, kept glancing at Kieran like he was about to combust. Kieran, my tall, bossy, big-meanie husband helped me out of the car, all serious-face and broody like usual.
"Wait here," he said, like he was trying to trap my fun into a small invisible box.
I blinked at him, leaned forward, flopped my hair, and immediately saw the fountain. The fountain was calling me. Sparkly water. Twirling possibilities. Wet chaos.
Before Kieran could finish whatever boring mafia-boss instructions he was giving Sterling. I was already halfway there. My heels slapped the polished stones, my dress swishing.
SPLASH.
"SWITCHIN' POSITIONS FOR—YOUUU—!"
I twirled my waist inside the fountain, splashing water everywhere, humming nonsense, living my best aquatic life. My red dress was soaked and clinging to me like a second skin — and I honestly didn't care.
I could hear Sterling's voice stuttering, "S-sir… your wife… uh… your wife is… at the fountain."
I giggled because I knew Kieran thought Sterling was hallucinating.
"No," I imagined Kieran saying, all annoyed.
"She's right—"
Then I heard it.
That confused pause.
That ominous silence.
Then—
"Look back, sir," Sterling points like a traumatised goat
I froze like a guilty fish inside the water.
Kieran slowly turned.
His "oh for fucks sake—" face was so dramatic I almost screamed laughing.
"This girl will be the end of me," he muttered, storming toward me.
I kicked water at him.
"Stop coming here! You always spoil my fun! I'm HOT!" I grabbed the strap of my dress, tugging it down like I actually wanted to take the whole thing off.
"It's sticking to me! I wanna take it OFF!"
Kieran's eyes widened so much you'd think I shot him.
He looked around sharply.
If any of his guards decided to randomly stroll past this place and saw me like this? Someone's eyeballs were going in a jar tonight.
"Aurielle. Stop." His voice dropped to that warning tone he uses when he's two seconds away from losing his mind.
I pouted dramatically.
"Leave me aloneeee," I slurred, still tugging my strap. "I just wanna play a little—"
He didn't even let me finish.
This man — this cold, crazy, obsessive billionaire — stepped into the fountain fully clothed and grabbed me like I weighed nothing.
"Put me DOWN!" I whined, hitting his back as he threw me over his shoulder.
Water from my soaked dress seeped into his expensive suit.
He didn't even flinch.
Sterling, meanwhile, was standing there like he just witnessed a crime.
The moment my dress rode up the slightest bit, he covered his eyes so fast he almost slapped himself and marched away like a blind bat.
Kieran growled under his breath, gripping my thighs to keep my dress from exposing me to the entire mansion staff.
"If one guard sees you like this…" he muttered darkly.
I swear someone was dying tonight.
I kept kicking.
"Kierannnn leave meeee! I wanna go back to the fountaaain!"
He ignored me, carrying me straight inside like a man rescuing his idiot wife from her own disasters.
The door to Kieran's room clicked shut behind us, and he carefully set me down on the couch. His eyes didn't leave mine as he spoke, his voice low, controlled.
"You should change," he said. "I'm going to sleep somewhere else tonight."
I blinked up at him, still clinging to the last of my tipsy energy. "Are you leaving me all alone, Kieran?" I whispered, pouting, my voice soft, eyes wide and innocent.
Something in me shifted. I saw it—the tight line of his jaw, the way his breath hitched, and the dark, dangerous gleam in his eyes. For the first time, Kieran stuttered, and his control faltered. He didn't want this, he told himself. God, he didn't want it.
I caught his hand as he tried to pull away. "Kieran…" I murmured. "Don't go. We're married… can't I be with you?"
I let the strap of my dress slip down, letting it fall to the floor, leaving me in red lingerie. The moment his gaze met me, I felt the shift. His breath hitched. His mouth opened, his body betraying him. I stepped closer, pressing my chest lightly against his, letting him feel the warmth of me, my heart racing against his chest.
"I know you want me, Kieran," I whispered. "I want you too."
My hand found its way to the zip of his trousers, trailing along his length. He nearly grabbed me, almost giving in, but he forced himself back. "You need rest," he muttered, voice low, hoarse with desire.
I frowned, but didn't relent. "Don't you want me?" I pressed closer, tracing the heat of him, my fingers dancing along his tense muscles. I could see the sweat forming along his collarbone, the subtle tremble in his hands.
"I—Aurielle, please…" he said, his voice rough, almost a growl. But I didn't move away. I pressed my soft body against him, feeling his hardness against me.
He struggled, trying to leave, but I clutched his hand, pressing it back to my chest. "Do you feel my heart?" I whispered, letting my lips brush against his ear. "It's beating for you, Kieran."
His hands finally betrayed him, finding their way to my waist, then to the curve of my ass. I shivered, leaning into him. "Kieran…" I breathed, voice low, seductive, soft.
He froze, his jaw tight, his body shaking with restraint. "I can't… I can't do this. You're drunk…" His words were a struggle against his own desire, his control fraying like thin silk.
I tilted my head, pouting, unhooking my bra, letting it fall to the floor. My pink pebbles stood, catching the faint light as I held his face and forced his eyes to mine.
"Kieran… please…" My whisper was soft, innocent, teasing.
He turned away, clenching his fists, closing his eyes. Sweat beaded his temple. I pressed my breast against his back, feeling his rapid heartbeat. "Don't leave now," I murmured, my voice almost breathless.
He finally removed my hand from his waist carefully and stepped back. The door clicked behind him as he left, leaving me panting, my chest rising and falling, and him outside, breathing hard, fighting every instinct screaming at him to come back.
Even for a man like Kieran D'Angelo—the cold, obsessive, dangerous mafia billionaire—it was almost too much to bear.
He looked back… and for one terrifying, delicious second, I thought he'd come back anyway.