"I prepared everything... just for you."
Vivienne’s voice was breathless, her eyes shining with the hope of a devotee offering a sacrifice to her god.
Alex didn’t answer imdiately.
He stepped forward, closing the final inch of distance between them. He reached out, his hand sliding around her waist, pulling her flush against his body. He felt her tremble... not from fear, but from the sudden, overwhelming relief of finally being touched after two days of starvation.
He looked down at her, his eyes scanning the lace, the candles, the carefully staged scene.
"For ?" Alex repeated softly, his voice a low, vibrating rumble in the quiet room.
He tilted his head slightly, his gaze drifting toward the heavy velvet curtains hanging against the wall. The curtains that had been left just open enough to allow a view from the outside.
A cruel, knowing smirk curled his lips.
"Or did you prepare this for your little daughter?"
Vivienne froze in his arms. Her breath hitched, and a deep, dark flush rose from her chest to stain her neck crimson.
"I saw her car outside, Vivienne," Alex whispered, his hand tightening on her hip, digging into the soft flesh. "I know she’s out there. And I know you left those curtains open for a reason."
He leaned down, bringing his lips to her ear.
"You want her to see this, don’t you? You want your little princess to watch her mother being used like a common whore."
Vivienne shuddered, her knees buckling slightly. She didn’t deny it. She couldn’t. The truth was laid bare between them, raw and undeniable.
She looked up, her eyes wet and glassy, filled with a toxic mix of sha and undeniable arousal. She bit her lip, a nervous, embarrassed smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
"I..." she started, her voice shaking.
Then, she took a breath and steeled herself. The embarrassnt faded, replaced by a dark, feverish lust that matched his own. She looked him dead in the eye, her pupils blown wide.
"I want whatever you want, Alex," she confessed, her voice dropping to a husky whisper.
She rose on her tiptoes, pressing her body harder against his, letting him feel the heat radiating from her skin.
"If it pleases you to ruin in front of her... then ruin ."
She ran her hands up his chest, gripping the lapels of his jacket, her eyes burning with a twisted thrill.
"If it makes you happy to break her heart and my dignity at the sa ti... then do it. I’m yours. Use however you see fit."
Vivienne didn’t wait for an answer. Her hands moved to his shoulders, her fingers trembling slightly as she pushed his suit jacket down his arms.
It hit the floor with a heavy, muted thud.
Neither of them looked down.
Her gaze was locked on his chest, burning with a feverish intensity. She reached for the top button of his dress shirt, her nails grazing his skin through the fabric.
One button. Two. Three.
She worked her way down with agonizing slowness, unveiling him inch by inch. As the white shirt fell open, revealing the hard, tanned expanse of his chest, her breath hitched audibly.
She didn’t just look; she devoured.
She reached out, her cool palms sliding over the dense, corded muscle of his pectorals, tracing the deep definition of his abs, and lingering over the faint white scars that marked him as a fighter.
Alex let her look. He let her touch. He shrugged the shirt off his shoulders, letting it pool around his waist before discarding it entirely.
Now, he stood before her... naked from the waist up, a statue carved from living marble and violence.
Vivienne’s eyes shone in the candlelight, dilated and glassy with lust. She traced the line of his oblique muscle, her voice dropping to a whisper of pure reverence.
"God..." she breathed, shaking her head in disbelief. "You are... a masterpiece."
She leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the center of his chest, right over his heart. She could feel the steady, powerful thrum of his pulse against her lips before she pulled back with a reluctant sigh.
She didn’t let go. She slid her hands down his arms, lacing her fingers through his.
"This way," she whispered, her eyes never leaving his.
She began to walk backward, pulling him gently, guiding him through the maze of flickering candles. She moved with a slow, hypnotic grace, drawing him toward the center of the room.
When the back of his knees hit the edge of the king-sized mattress, she stopped.
She released his hands and placed her palms flat against his bare chest. With a bold, dark smile, she pushed.
It wasn’t a command; it was an invitation.
Alex let her handle him. He sank back onto the black silk sheets, the mattress dipping under his weight. He didn’t just sit; he claid the space. He leaned back on his hands, his legs spread wide, the candlelight catching the hard ridges of his torso and casting long shadows that made him look like a dark god lounging on his throne.
Vivienne imdiately stepped between his knees. Her hands rested on his thighs, her thumbs rubbing slow, possessive circles into his skin.
"Now..." she purred, looking down at him with a mix of hunger and devotion. "Let us take care of you."
She glanced briefly over her shoulder... toward the heavy curtains on the far wall, where the gap she had left open was waiting.
"...while we wait for our little guest to find her seat."
As if the house itself was listening, a soft clinking sound echoed from the shadows.
Helena erged from the dim corner of the room. She was holding a crystal tumbler filled with amber liquid and a single large sphere of ice. The condensation on the glass caught the candlelight, glittering like a diamond.
She walked toward the bed, her hips swaying in a liquid, hypnotic rhythm, her eyes fixed on the expanse of Alex’s bare chest.
"Your drink, Sir," Helena murmured, her voice husky.
She didn’t hand it to him. Instead, she sank to her knees beside the bed, bowing her head slightly as she held the glass up to his lips like an offering.
"A special blend," she whispered, her dark eyes flicking up to et his. "Just enough to sharpen the senses... though I doubt you’ll need any help with what cos next."
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