The apartment was massive. Quiet. Expensive in a way that didn't need to announce itself.
She kicked off her shoes, tilting slightly.
"Wow," she said out loud
He eyed her as she turned back to him, hair loose around her shoulders, eyes bright and reckless.
Tessa didn't realize how intoxicated she was until the door closed behind her.
The sound was weak and controlled, but it echoed in the immensity of the penthouse like a final decision. Silence rushed in, thick and heavy, swallowing the remnants of the club's noise that still rang faintly in her ears.
She stood there for a moment, unmoving.
The space in front of her was overwhelming.
Glass walls rose from floor to ceiling, revealing the city stretched endlessly below them, lights scattered like stars fallen to earth.
The marble floor glowed beneath her feet.
Everything smelled expensive, clean, sharp, untouched.
This wasn't a place she belonged.
Her fingers curled into the strap of her purse, knuckles pulling as she took a hesitant step forward. Her heels connected too loudly, betraying her nerves.
Alex watched her quietly.
She could feel his attention even without looking at him.
"You can sit," he said, his voice soft, measured.
She nodded, thankful for the suggestion, and walked toward the sofa.
Halfway there, her ankle tilted. She gasped quietly, instinctively reaching out—
His hand circled her waist.
The contact was instant. Firm. Certain.
She hardened at first, then relaxed when she realized he wasn't letting go.
Her breath caught.
She hadn't expected him to feel like that. Solid. Warm. Real.
Alex didn't rush her. He didn't speak. He simply held her steady until her balance returned.
When he discharged her, the absence of his hand felt louder than the touch itself.
She sank onto the sofa, smoothing her dress with nervous fingers. Her heart was beating too fast.
She glanced around again, eyes wide, taking in the space like she was afraid it might disappear.
She shifted slightly, tucking her feet beneath her, her movements small, restrained. Alcohol had dimmed her edges but hadn't erased her instincts. She felt exposed here, perched on expensive furniture, surrounded by luxury she didn't understand.
He reached out and took her purse from her fingers, setting it aside without asking. The simple act sent a shiver down her spine.
She swallowed.
He stepped closer.
Her breath hitched as he closed the distance, stopping just in front of her knees. He didn't touch her again right away. He let the tension stretch, let her feel the weight of his attention.
She lowered her gaze instinctively.
That pleased him.
He lifted her chin with one finger, forcing her to look at him. The touch was controlled, deliberate. Her pulse jumped beneath his fingertip.
Her lips parted, but no words came out.
He leaned in and kissed her.
It wasn't rushed. It wasn't messy. It was slow, deep, claiming. His mouth moved against hers with practiced confidence, setting the pace, giving her no choice but to follow. His hands gently settled on her nipples as they roamed freely.
Her hands hovered uncertainly before settling against his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt like she needed something to hold onto. She made a soft sound against his mouth before she could stop herself.
His hands moved from her nipples, slowly tracing her thighs, and she moaned with pleasure as she spread her legs apart, surrendering to the moment.
He gently used his fingers to trace her pants and immediately removed them, setting them aside.
He pushed his middle finger into her thighs as he stroked her.
She took a deep breath, as she bit her lower lip slightly.
Satisfied with her reaction, he pushed the second finger into her thighs, the walls of her body crumbled at his touch as she cried out in pleasure.
At this point, she was already dripping.
He pulled back slightly, just enough to look at her.
Her cheeks were flushed. Her eyes were glassy. Her breathing was uneven, her
Definitely drunk.
Definitely affected.
His thumb brushed her lower lip, wiping away the faintest trace of moisture. "Relax," he muttered on her skin.
She melted at the words.
He kissed her again, deeper this time, one hand braced on the back of the sofa, the other sliding to her thigh.
She tensed for a split second, then relaxed when she realized he wasn't rushing—just grounding her, anchoring her in the moment.
Her body responded before her mind could catch up.
She leaned into him, shy but wanting, her movements tentative. Every reaction she had was honest, unfiltered by the confidence she didn't possess.
Alex took control effortlessly.
He guided her back against the cushions, towering over her, his presence dominating the space. His mouth traced her jaw, her neck, enough to make her gasp, enough to make her clutch at his sleeve.
She trembled beneath his touch.
The closeness was intoxicating. Overwhelming
He kissed her once more, slow, deep, possessive, until the world narrowed to heat and breath.
"You're not like the others," he murmured.
She didn't ask what he meant. She didn't care, not during this moment.
Her head tipped back as she surrendered to the sensation, eyes fluttering shut. She wasn't thinking anymore. She didn't want to.
When he pulled away, she made a small, unconscious sound of protest.
He smiled faintly.
"That's enough down here," he said.
He straightened, then lifted her into his arms without warning.
She gasped softly, startled, instinctively wrapping her arms around his neck.
Her body fit against his perfectly, her cheek resting against his shoulder as if it belonged there.
He carried her toward the stairs, unhurried, secure.
She barely noticed the ascent, the world swinging gently as her intoxication deepened. The only thing she was aware of was the steady strength beneath her, the way he held her like she couldn't fall.
The bedroom was darker. Quieter. More intimate.
He set her down on the bed slowly, deliberately, making sure she was steady before releasing her. She sat there, hands folded in her lap, suddenly very aware of herself.
He stood over her, taking her in.
She nodded.
Her fingers tightened in the sheets.
He leaned down again, his hands braced on either side of her, trapping her without touching.
He strokes her again, and she moans, the sound spilling from her lips like a prayer.
This time she claimed his lips, as he rushed to undress, the kiss so intense that they were breathing into each other's mouths.
Not minding the absence of a contraceptive, he thrust into her as they moved in an oscillatory motion back and forth, their bodies entwined in a forbidden dance.
They both moaned in pleasure as they rode each other, lost in the ecstasy of the moment.
She grabbed him by his collar, moaning in pleasure.