Xavier’s POV

She was a fucking problem.

I’d been in meetings all day, barking at division heads who were too cowardly to admit they’d fumbled a merger worth $20 million. And still, all I could think about was her. Eva Monroe. That mouth. That attitude. That tattoo I’d only seen once before but never forgot.

I didn’t remember her face that night, but my body remembered everything else.

She was the kind of trouble you saw coming—and walked into anyway.

Eva Monroe had been in my building for less than twelve hours, and I already wanted her bent over every surface in my penthouse. That tattoo, the one I hadn’t stopped thinking about since our night together, had been seared into my memory. I hadn’t known her name then, but now I knew too much. And not nearly enough.

Something was off about her. Her confidence wasn’t the kind you earn from experience—it was sharper. Calculated. She moved like someone with a plan.

And yet, I couldn’t stop fucking wanting her.

My glass of scotch did nothing to quiet the tension twisting low in my gut. I loosened my tie and glanced at the clock. She was late. Not disrespectfully so—just enough to make a point. Make me wait. Make me want.

When the knock came, I didn’t answer right away. I let her stand there for five long seconds. Then I opened the door.

And there she was.

Wearing sin like a weapon.

A black dress clung to her curves like it had been sewn onto her skin. No bra. No shame. Just skin and confidence and those eyes that looked like they knew all my secrets.

“You’re late,” I said.

She smirked and stepped past me. “You looked like you could use the anticipation.”

Her heels clicked across the marble as she set her purse on the kitchen island and walked straight to the sideboard where I kept my liquor.

“You always let your new hires drink at your penthouse?” she asked.

I shut the door and followed her slowly. “Only the ones who suck my cock before their first day.”

She laughed, low and dangerous. “Must be a tough HR department.”

“You’re not scared of me.”

“You want me to be?”

I didn’t answer. Instead, I watched the way her hips moved as she walked toward me, drink in hand. She stopped just short of touching me.

“Last time, you didn’t even ask my name,” she said softly.

“I didn’t need it.”

“You needed something.”

I stepped closer, closing the gap between us, her breath brushing my neck. “What are you, Eva?”

She tilted her head, smile curling. “A very bad idea.”

I gripped her waist, spun her, and slammed her back against the island, catching the flash of heat in her eyes just before I kissed her.

It wasn’t gentle.

Her mouth opened to mine like we were mid-argument and fucking was the only way to win. I dragged her hair back, exposing her neck, and bit just beneath her jawline. She hissed. I didn’t stop.

“Is this what you wanted?” I growled, grinding into her.

She reached behind and grabbed my hand, guiding it under her dress.

No panties.

“Take what you want,” she whispered, biting my lip. “If you can handle it.”

Challenge accepted.

I turned her roughly, bent her over the marble, and shoved her dress up to her waist. My hand wrapped around the base of her ponytail, pulling her head back hard. Her gasp turned into a moan as I ran my hand over her ass and down between her legs.

Soaking wet.

“Already?” I teased.

“I was wet the second I walked in.”

I lined up and shoved into her in one brutal stroke. She arched, cried out, and I slammed into her again. Again. She was tight, hot, and fucking perfect.

One hand tangled in her hair, the other slid beneath her body, cupping and squeezing both her breasts while I kept thrusting into her like I was trying to erase every man who came before me.

Her moans turned into guttural sounds—desperate and raw. She reached behind, gripped my thigh, and twisted, pulling me even deeper.

I leaned forward, and she craned her neck to meet me, sinking her teeth into the back of mine, just beneath my hairline.

I snapped.

I rammed into her, over and over, the slap of skin on skin echoing through the apartment. She took it like she’d been waiting for me to fuck the hate out of her.

And maybe she had.

I was losing myself in her, in the mess of it all. In her scent, her voice, the way her body responded to every command I gave without hesitation. She didn’t want tenderness.

She wanted control blurred. Power broken. Pain kissed with pleasure.

I yanked her upright by the hair and twisted her around without pulling out. I lifted her up and dropped her on the island facing me, grabbing her throat as I slammed back inside.

Her legs locked around my waist.

Her nails dug into my back.

Her lips found mine again—biting, gasping, filthy.

It was war. And I loved every fucking second.

“Say my name,” I growled, squeezing her ass as I pounded into her.

“Xavier,” she cried. “Harder—fuck—”

I delivered.

When she came, it was violent—her entire body trembling as she screamed my name and clenched around me. I followed a few seconds later, growling into her neck as I emptied inside her, my hips finally slowing.

We both stayed there, breathing heavy, sweat-slicked and ruined.

I didn’t move.

She didn’t either.

Then, after a moment, she laughed softly against my ear.

“What’s funny?” I asked.

She leaned in, lips brushing the shell of my ear.

“Round two’s not off the table,” she whispered, biting me again.

Then she pulled back, slid off the counter, adjusted her dress, and looked me dead in the eye.

“But just so we’re clear…”

I waited.

“This doesn’t mean you own me.”

I smirked. “Let’s get to that soon.”