The elevator whispered as it glided upward like a secret, the smooth hum beneath my heels somehow louder than the drumbeat of my heart. I stood beside Kyl Ronald, my pulse a wildfire, my hands clenched around the gold chain of my purse. His scent invaded the tiny space: warm spice, smoke, and something uniquely male. Dominant. Expensive. Dangerous.
I stared ahead, watching our reflections blur in the mirror-paneled walls. His hand never touched me, but I felt him. Felt his attention like heat, dragging over the curve of my hip, the slope of my shoulder. He had made me change from my skimpy black dress into a white towel on our way to his penthouse, saying he liked his pets with a towel wrapped around them like a gift for him to unwrap. My towel-clad body still tingled from earlier, from the dance, the contract, the price of pleasure.
When the elevator doors opened with a soft chime, I stumbled into a different world.
His penthouse wasn't a home, it was a temple.
Vast ceilings opened above a marble floor that gleamed like glass. Silver sculptures caught the ambient light and cast shadows that danced over sharp corners and moody velvet furniture. Art lined the walls very bold, erotic, unapologetic. Naked bodies twisted in oil and paint, immortalized in lust and torment. A fireplace burned low behind a translucent screen.
And it was silent. Not sterile, but intentional. Like everything in here answered to him.
He tossed his keys into a crystal bowl and motioned toward the black leather couch. "Sit."
My legs obeyed before I did. I sank into the cool leather, my towel sticking slightly to my damp skin.
He poured two glasses of amber liquid and handed me one. "Drink."
I did. The whiskey burned, but I welcomed it. It grounded me. Reminded me that I was still here. Still Ivana. Not the fantasy girl I was pretending to be.
Kyl watched me, his eyes dark. "You're quiet now."
I tried to smile. "Trying not to vomit from nerves."
He laughed a low, rough sound. "You seemed bolder earlier."
"I was drunker earlier."
His gaze dipped to my chest where the towel barely clung to my breasts. "Go take a bath," he said simply. "There's a robe waiting."
I hesitated. "Alone?"
He smirked. "For now."
The bathroom was the size of my entire apartment. I bet Mala will flip if she saw this place, bright coloured and Marble, again. Black and white veins that streaked like lightning across the walls. The tub was sunken, surrounded by flickering candles. Steam curled from the surface, thick and welcoming.
I slipped out of the towel, lowering myself into the heat with a sigh that escaped before I could silence it.
For ten long minutes, I let the water soothe me. I tried not to think about what was coming. I could feel his presence in the room waiting patiently to devour me, Ivana, it's too late to run now, I thought.
When I stepped out, I wrapped the white towel tightly around my chest again, breathing in the lavender soap clinging to my skin.
Kyl was waiting when I reemerged, shirtless, sipping from his whiskey.
He gestured toward the long wooden cabinet near the far wall. It looked like something stolen from a Victorian dungeon.
"Prep the toys," he said, voice like iron in silk.
I blinked. "What?"
He moved closer. "Open the drawer. Choose what excites you."
My cheeks flamed. My fingers trembled as I obeyed.
Inside were toys I'd only ever read about: restraints, plugs, blindfolds, paddles, vibrators… some sleek and modern, others primitive and cruel-looking. I touched a feathered crop and shivered.
Kyl moved past me toward the bathroom. "Choose wisely," he said, disappearing behind the door.
The door shut with a soft snick.
I stared at the drawer.
My heart thundered. I didn't know what I wanted. I didn't know who I was in this moment.
When I heard the shower stop, I dropped the crop and stood frozen, towel wrapped like armor around my chest. this is it, the dreaded end.
He emerged bare-chested, water still glistening on his abs, a towel slung low around his hips. His eyes locked onto mine.
He crossed the room with slow, deliberate steps. Every inch of him radiated command.
"Take it off," he said.
I didn't move.
His gaze narrowed. "Now."
I shook my head.
He arched a brow. "You agreed to this."
"I—I know," I whispered.
He reached forward, fingers brushing the top knot of my towel. "Then let me—"
"No!"
He stilled.
My body shook. My breath fractured. And then—
The tears came. I felt raw fear and it transformed to tears
I covered my face, unable to stop the sob that broke through my lips. "I'm sorry—I can't—I didn't—"
He said nothing. The silence stretched like a taut string.
"I'm a virgin," I choked.
The air shifted.
His hand dropped.
I looked up through tears. His face wasn't cruel. It wasn't mocking. It was… unreadable.
He stepped back, running a hand through his wet hair. "Jesus."
"I didn't mean to—I just—I needed the money. I thought I could pretend."
He turned away, muscles tensing.
"I'll go," I whispered. "You don't have to pay me."
"No," he said quickly, spinning to face me. "You're not going anywhere."
I blinked. "What?"
His jaw clenched. "You think I'd let you leave like this? You think I'd toss you aside like some broken doll?"
I didn't know what to say.
He walked back, slower now. His voice softer. "I don't do virgins."
"I don't do billionaires."
That made him smirk.
He touched my cheek. "You still want this?"
I hesitated. "I think so."
He leaned in. "Then let me show you what it can be."
And for the first time, Kyl didn't take. He gave.
He peeled the towel from my body with reverence, eyes drinking in every inch of me. He kissed my shoulder, my collarbone, the hollow between my breasts. His hands explored, but not like a predator—like an artist.
He laid me down on the bed, surrounded by silk sheets and the soft hum of music, my heart racing but my pussy wet and willing
He tasted me like a secret. Worshiped me like a sin.
I winced as I felt the pain bite through me, his dick was monstrous, he knew, so he pushed in inch after inch allowing me to relax until I took in his full length. I felt pain mixed with pleasure, I moaned letting out a soft cry.
And when he finally slid into me, he was slow, careful, aching, then I realized this wasn't the night he planned.
It was the one we created together.
And nothing would be the same again, Not for him and definitely not for me too.