Ann lay still in the king-sized bed, her heartbeat echoing in her ears like a warning drum. The rain outside tapped soft secrets against the tall glass windows of the penthouse. Somewhere deep in the house, the clock struck midnight — a sound that always made her chest tighten with questions she didn't dare ask.
Beside her, Xavier shifted, his hand sliding over her bare hip, warm and firm, claiming her even in sleep. But she knew he wasn't asleep. His breath was too steady, too measured, like a hunter pretending to rest while watching his prey.
"Can't sleep?" His voice came low against her ear, brushing heat down her neck.
Ann shivered. "I'm trying."
"Liar." His lips curved against her skin. He kissed her shoulder, slow, like he was branding her with something invisible. "You're thinking too loud again."
She turned her head, and their eyes met in the soft glow of the bedside lamp. Those eyes — deep, dark, dangerous — always saw through her walls. He tucked a stray strand of her hair behind her ear, fingers grazing her jaw.
"What if someone sees us like this?" she whispered, though she already knew the answer.
Xavier's smile was a promise and a threat at once. "Let them."
He moved closer, pressing his chest to her back, his arm wrapping tight around her waist. She could feel the strength in him — the power that made people tremble when he entered a room. Yet here, under these sheets, he touched her like she was the only secret he would never share.
"Say my name," he murmured.
"Xavier…"
"Again."
She turned fully, her palm resting over his heart. It thudded steady under her touch, proof that this man — this deadly man — was human after all. Sometimes she wondered if she'd woken a monster or a protector.
"I don't trust you," she confessed in a hush, afraid the walls might hear.
"Good," he said, dipping to kiss the corner of her mouth. "You shouldn't."
His lips moved lower — her neck, her collarbone. She arched into him, breath caught between fear and hunger. There was always danger between them, but tonight it made her bold.
"What if I leave you one day?" she whispered.
He paused, eyes narrowing like a storm cloud passing the moon. Then he laughed — low, dark, not really amused.
"You won't." His teeth scraped her skin, gentle but sharp enough to remind her. "You belong to me, Ann. Even if you run, you'll run straight back."
Her pulse stumbled. His hand slid under the sheet, fingers tracing her thigh, pulling her closer until there was no space left for doubts. The storm outside howled louder, but inside this room, his voice was the only thing that mattered.
He kissed her hard then, swallowing her secrets, her questions, her fears. When he pulled back, his thumb brushed her lips — a silent command to keep them sealed.
"I'll protect you," he said, words softer now, almost tender. "From everyone. From myself, if I have to. Just don't lie to me."
She nodded, breathless, her body pinned under the weight of his promise and the heat between them.
"I won't."
He smirked, satisfied, and tugged the sheet higher to cover them both — as if the silk could hide the bruises he left on her heart, the ones she'd never dare show the world.
Outside, thunder cracked. Inside, her world narrowed to Xavier's heartbeat and the press of his lips claiming hers again — sealing a deal more dangerous than any contract.