Catherine's Pov

The cool air hits my heated skin, and I shudder. Then his thumb finds my bare folds, stroking through the slickness already gathering there. A whimper escapes my lips before I can stop it, my hips lifting instinctively toward his touch.

Pathetic. That’s what Evander would call me if he saw me like this; writhing under a stranger’s hands like some desperate whore. But I can’t help it. This isn’t the harsh, clinical fucking I’m used to. This is slow. This is maddening. This is insatiable.

“Look at you,” he breathes, circling me with just enough pressure to make my thighs shake. “So responsive… so perfect.

Perfect. The word lodges in my chest. Evander has never called me that. He’s never said anything like this to me in bed. He’s vulgar, harsh, dominant, he takes what he wants while I lay there, silent, waiting for it to be over. Sometimes I cry. Sometimes I bite my lip until it bleeds. But this?

This is different.

This is soft.

And it’s unraveling me.

When he finally slips a finger inside, curling it just right, my back arches off the couch as pleasure rips through me. A broken sound tears from my throat—something between a gasp and a sob—as he adds another finger, working me at a relentless, perfect pace. My hands claw at the couch, the fabric bunching under my fingers as the pleasure builds, sharp and overwhelming.

The music downstairs thrums louder, drowning out my cries just as the wave crashes over me. My body locks up, pleasure coursing through me so violently I see stars. For a second, the world whites out.

Then I’m collapsing back onto the couch, breathless, ruined.

I’ve never felt this before. Never had an organsm in the most cliche way like this. Kael said I'm a broken woman and his daughters call me a man but now, a stranger was licking off my juices from his hands. It’s terrifyingly addicting. And when I blink up at him, dazed, craving for more.

He doesn’t wait for the aftershocks to fade. His hands are already on me, helping me pull my dress over my head. I follow his lead, desperate, craving, my skin still buzzing from the high. His fingers make quick work of my bra, freeing my breasts before his palms knead them gently.

“Has he touched you like this before?”

No. Never. Evander gropes, bites, hurts.

Then his mouth is on me, his tongue circling my nipple before grazing it with his teeth. A moan spills from my lips, my toes curling into the couch as pleasure sparks through me again. His open-mouthed kisses trail up my chest, my throat, before finally capturing my lips in a kiss so soft it aches.

I brush aside memories of Evander's kisses which are usually rough demanding, bruising, and empty. But this man kisses me like he’s teaching me how to breathe. His mouth moves against mine in a slow, intoxicating rhythm, his tongue exploring, claiming, until I’m clutching him like he’s the only thing keeping me grounded.

I can taste the tobacco and red wine on his tongue, the blend heady and intoxicating. My stomach is warm, heat pooling between my legs again, and I can’t stop the needy sounds slipping from my lips.

“You taste divine,” he groans, his hands cupping my face like I’m something fragile.

I can feel his growing length pressing against my thigh, hard and insistent, and without thinking, I slide my hands around his neck, pulling him closer.

I don’t know what this is.

I don’t care.

For the first time in years, I feel alive.

The sharp knock makes me jerk away from him so fast I nearly stumble. My heart pounds violently against my ribs as reality comes crashing back.

"Catherine!" Gen's shrill voice cuts through the door, followed by the rattling of the doorknob. The lock holds and let out a sigh of relief just as she curses under her breath, she's the head maid and possibly the head of my hate club.

I stare at the man in front of me as the alcohol haze lifts, leaving cold dread in its place. My fingers fumble with my dress, yanking it down over my hips. The panties take two tries to pull up properly - my hands won't stop shaking. He just watches me with those dark eyes, looking far too amused for the situation.

"You look so hot right now," he smirks, running a hand through his messy hair like we're not seconds from disaster.

"No...please stop," I hiss, scanning the room desperately. "Hide somewhere or something. I don't want her to see you here."

Hide where? The realization hits me like a punch to the gut. I just cheated on Kael. With who? Someone who works for him? Someone who'll tell him? What the hell was I thinking?

"Catherine!" Gen's voice turns sharp, accompanied by louder banging. "Open this door immediately!"

"I'm coming!" My voice cracks. A glance in the mirror shows smeared makeup, swollen lips, hair in complete disarray. I'll say I was crying. Not exactly a lie these days.

The door swings open and pain explodes across my cheek before I can speak. My head snaps to the side from the force of Gen's slap

"Why would you take so long?" she shrieks, her face twisted in anger. "Do you know how long I've been waiting out here?"

I press a hand to my stinging cheek, staring at the floor as a throbbing headache starts behind my eyes. "I'm sorry, I-"

"And why would you hit her?"

That voice in a deep, dangerous form comes from right behind me. His presence fills the doorway, one arm braced against the frame. My blood turns to ice. I'm dead. I'm so completely dead I can already smell the dirt they'll bury me in.

"Y-your Highness!" Gen's voice jumps two octaves. She stumbles back a step. "I didn't...I didn't know you were here. Why are you-"

He cuts her off with a look that could melt steel. The sheer fury in his expression makes even me shrink back.

Your Highness?

"I had no idea it was suddenly a crime to see my stepmother," he says, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Stepmother.

No.

Goodness, no.