His eyes stayed in on me. It was like the rest of the world had disappeared—the noise, the lights, the crowds and only that look remained. He leaned closer, the faint scent of whiskey and something darker, more expensive, cutting through the air between us.

“Do you always drink alone?” he asked.

I tilted my glass. “Only when I’m trying to forget something.”

A quiet chuckle. Deep, low. “And is it working?”

“Not really.” I replied.

The corner of his mouth curved again, that almost-smile that looked both dangerous and kind. He shifted his weight, resting one elbow on the counter. “I’m Alexander.”

The name rolled easily off his tongue. Strong, simple.

“Diana” I said, before I could think about whether I should.

“Diana,” he repeated, as if he was testing how it tasted.

Something about the way he said it made my pulse skip.

The silence between us thickened again comfortable, charged. I looked away, just long enough to take another sip. When I looked back, his eyes were still on me.

“You don’t belong in places like this,” he said quietly not in a judging way .

“Maybe that’s the point,” I murmured.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. The song changed. The crowd cheered. Someone spilled a drink behind us, laughter breaking through the music. But none of it touched us.

Then he set his glass down and stood. “Come on,” he said, voice steady, low enough that I had to lean closer to hear.

“Where?”

“Somewhere quieter.” He answered.

My throat went dry. I should’ve asked more questions like why, where, what for but I didn’t. There was something in the way he said it that pulled me in, something I couldn’t explain or fight.

The air outside hit me instantly cold, sharp, real. After all the heat and noise inside, it felt strange to breathe again.

The music was still pounding behind the walls, but out here it was just faint thumps and city sounds—distant horns, voices, wind.

I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to shake off the mix of dizziness and adrenaline still running through me. I wasn’t even sure what I was doing maybe I just needed air maybe I didn’t want to go home.

Before I could think too much, headlights flashed across the curb a black G-wagon came to a full halt. When we got inside he directed the driver to the hotel. All the way to the hotel, we kept finding each other. Little kisses between breaths, his hand resting lightly on my waist as I leaned into him.

At some point, I stopped thinking. I rested my head against his chest, feeling the slow, steady rhythm of his heartbeat under my cheek.

He carried me through the lobby, strong and sure like the world around us didn’t exist. The suite was quiet, big and beautiful.

He sat me down gently on the sofa and removed my dress slowly. Part of me wanted to reach out, to touch, to know every line and curve but fear held me still not fear of him, but of what I was feelling. I slid my hand gently over his muscular arms. He removed his trouser, wearing just boxers while I was just wearing a bra and a thong.

His hand brushed against my back, and I froze for a second. The mark was there, faint but clear, a part of me no one had ever seen. I felt exposed, vulnerable, yet strangely alive,

His finger paused for a moment, and a faint shiver ran down my spine. My mind fluttered between embarrassment, excitement, and insecurity. He didn’t say a word about the mark, didn’t comment at all. He simply continued, his hand moving naturally, gently, like it belonged there. Slowly, the racing in my chest eased. The shiver faded into warmth, and a surprising calm settled over me.

He drew me closer claiming my lips and inserted his tongue into my mouth. I held the back if his neck and deepened the kiss.

He yanked off my bra and immediately cupped my breast and start to massage I moan slowly and he layed me in the sofa and started licking my nipples until she mouth started sucking my breast so hard . I gripped his shoulder with so much pleasure My nails dig into his shoulder and he didn’t even mind it

He opened my thighs wide and went down inserting is two fingers. His fingers were fucking me slowly. I held the bedsheets to tight because of what he was doing to me.

He thrust his hand faster and faster until I reached my climax. He immediately pressed his body into me. I can feel his dick in-between my legs.

I spread my legs wider so he could enter me more easily. I was instantly soaked, he took one of my leg and slung it on his shoulder.

He began pounding in and out gently. Our eyes stayed locked, he started thrusting me hard it felt like his shafts was hitting my lungs.

I moaned loudly. He then increased his pace even harder I screamed at the top of my voice. I held unto him tightly and I heard him groan.

He shifted us closer, and I felt the pressure of the moment. He muttered “fuck” and groaning.

I was hoping he’d leave me but he even fucked me harder again this time, I was breathless. I sat on him and started riding him hard and he started moaning nonstop. For a first time I think I as doing a good job.

He kept his hand on my waist moving us together. He was cumming soon I could feel it. I hammered harder before I became drained as I yelled his name, my voice echoing in the room.

He kissed me softly, and all I could do was melt into the closeness between.

Slowly, the intensity faded, leaving only warmth and quiet. We settled together, our bodies still close, the room dim and calm. Eventually, exhaustion took over, and we drifted toward sleep, hearts still gently echoing the moments we’d shared.

I woke to the soft glow of morning sunlight spilling through the curtains. His side of the bed was empty. My stomach tightened part of me wanted him there, part of me felt a strange relief.

Swinging my legs over the edge of the bed, I rubbed at the lingering warmth of last night. The room still smelled faintly of him his cologne mixed with the hotel air and it made my chest ache.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand. Lola. Twenty missed calls, Eight texts. “Where are you?!””Where did you go?” “ Diana reply me!” “Call me ASAP!!” I groaned and buried my face in my hands.

His name from last night echoed in my mind: Alexander. Low, smooth, teasing. Somehow it fit him perfectly, made everything feel heavier than it should.

I grabbed my phone, thumb hovering over the screen. Part of me wanted to call Lola back right away. Part of me wanted to stay tangled in the sheets, replaying his touch, his voice, the heat that hadn’t left me.

Finally, I pressed the phone to my ear. “Diana?” Lola’s voice came through, tense and worried. “Where the hell have you been? You had me scared!”

“I’m fine,” I said, keeping my voice steady “Just… needed some space.”

There was a pause. “Space? Diana… you can’t just disappear like that. What happened?”

I didn’t answer. Something under the pillow caught my eye. A cufflink—expensive, sleek, with a tiny detailed engraving that was strange. My fingers closed around it, and a small, inexplicable thrill ran through me.

He must have forgotten it. Probably didn’t even notice. And yet… there it was. A piece of him left behind, just for me.

My stomach fluttered, my mind buzzing with a mix of curiosity and something else I didn’t want to name. Would I ever see him again?