The rain lashed against the glass walls of Hayden's penthouse, streaking like tears across the city skyline. Lightning lit the marble floors in stark white flashes, briefly exposing the shadows that had become their sanctuary.
Ana stood at the edge of the glass, wearing nothing but his oversized black shirt that clung to her damp skin. Her hair, tousled and darkened by the steam of their earlier shower, framed her face like a halo—ironic, given the sin that clung to them both like a second skin.
Hayden leaned against the doorway, shirt unbuttoned, chest rising and falling with controlled breath. But there was a storm in his eyes—something that had nothing to do with the one outside. Something that reached for her.
"I still don't understand you," Ana said quietly, not turning to face him. Her fingers curled against the cool glass. "You make me feel like I'm everything. And then, like I'm nothing."
He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he crossed the room slowly, each step a deliberate threat wrapped in velvet. When he stopped behind her, he didn't touch her. Just stood there, close enough that the heat from his skin made her shiver.
"I was never supposed to feel anything for you," he said finally, voice rough. "You were a means to an end. A pawn in a game I've been playing since I was a boy."
Ana's throat tightened. "I know."
"But then you smiled," he whispered, his lips ghosting over her neck. "And you looked at me like I wasn't a monster."
"Maybe you're not."
He gave a soft, humorless laugh. "Don't lie to yourself."
His fingers finally brushed her hips, sliding around her waist, pulling her back against him. She gasped, but didn't resist. She couldn't. Not when his body pressed into hers like a promise and a punishment all at once.
"I'm not asking for forgiveness," he murmured into her ear. "I just want to be inside something that doesn't feel like war."
Ana turned her face toward him, slowly, cautiously. The vulnerability between them was raw and open—like an exposed nerve. "Then stop treating me like your enemy."
Their lips collided—not with sweetness, but desperation. Tongues tangling, teeth grazing, breath stolen. He lifted her effortlessly, carrying her toward the black leather sofa near the fireplace, his hands claiming every inch of skin beneath the shirt she wore.
She clung to him, moaning into his mouth as the storm outside echoed the one within them. Her back hit the cushions, and he hovered over her, the glow of firelight illuminating the angles of his face—so harsh, so devastatingly beautiful.
His hand slid up her thigh, fingers curling possessively around the soft flesh.
"You drive me insane," he growled. "You make me forget the plan. Forget revenge. Forget everything."
"Then forget," Ana whispered, pulling him closer. "Just… for tonight."
He didn't need more permission.
The shirt was gone in seconds, tossed aside like the last barrier between them. He kissed her like he was starving, like he needed her more than air. And Ana gave herself to him completely—not as a captive, not as a victim—but as a woman who was just as lost in him as he was in her.
Her legs wrapped around his waist as he slid into her, slow and deep. The breath caught in her throat, eyes fluttering closed at the overwhelming sensation of being filled by him, claimed by him. Their bodies moved in perfect, primal rhythm, the only sounds the wet slap of skin, the crackle of fire, and the ragged moans that escaped from both of them.
But it wasn't just sex.
It was something darker. Deeper.
A cry for connection in a world that had only taught them pain.
Hayden gripped her wrist and pinned it above her head, his other hand cradling her jaw as he thrust harder, deeper. "Say you want this."
"I want this," she gasped, hips lifting to meet his. "I want *you*."
His control shattered.
He moved faster, more desperate, like he was trying to drown himself inside her. Their pleasure built like pressure under glass, each movement driving them closer to the edge.
And when they came—together—it was a crescendo of fire and thunder and something terrifyingly close to love.
They lay tangled together, her head on his chest, his fingers brushing slow circles over her bare back. The room smelled of sex and smoke, and something unspoken hung between them.
"I'm scared," Ana confessed into the quiet.
Hayden didn't ask why. He knew.
He pulled her closer, kissing her forehead with surprising tenderness. "I'll burn the whole world down before I let anything touch you."
She looked up at him, searching his eyes. "Even yourself?"
He didn't answer.
Because deep down, they both knew—he was the biggest threat of all.