Sherina's POV
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I slowly opened my eyes as the sunlight filtered in, pulling me from a slumber that felt too deep to escape. My head was heavy, my body ached, and the soreness between my thighs pulsed like a reminder I could never erase. For a moment, I could not move, so I let my eyes wander across the room.
It was vast, unfamiliar, yet breathtaking in its quiet comfort. High ceilings, velvet curtains, the faint fragrance of expensive cologne clinging to the air. I shifted slightly, only to realize something was holding me down—warm, heavy, and impossibly strong.
Turning my head, I found him.
Leon.
Sleeping soundly behind me, one arm wrapped around my waist, his broad chest pressed firmly against my back. My legs, still weak, were tangled with his as if he had no intention of ever letting me go. I froze for a breath, simply staring at him.
His face, sculpted and serene in sleep, made it impossible to believe what had transpired just hours before.
'Ah… yes. I remember now. All of it. Every fevered touch, every whispered word. The way he consumed me whole, over and over, until I forgot who I was.'
I swallowed hard, carefully slipping from his grasp, every motion deliberate so as not to wake him. When his arm fell away, I sat up slowly, my body protesting, my mind hazy.
I carefully study his face. So composed even in rest, yet faint traces of exhaustion clung to him, proof of how relentless he had been.
'How many times? I couldn't even count.'
My cheeks burned as I looked around, my gaze landing on the torn remnants of our clothes scattered across the floor. Even his suit—expensive and immaculate when he wore it—was ripped as though it had offended him for existing between us.
'How wild had we been?'
I rubbed my temple as my vision blurred. The drug's aftershock still lingered, curling inside my blood, making it hard to think straight.
I needed water. I needed a shower. I needed… clarity.
Rising carefully, I padded across the vast room, every step making me more aware of how sore, how marked, how claimed I was. When I reached the curtains, I pulled them back and gasped.
—the city of Edenia sprawled below, majestic and glittering even under daylight. At night, I imagined, this view would be breathtaking, a thousand jeweled lights flickering beneath the sky. This wasn't the heart of the city but far enough that the whole kingdom of steel and glass could be seen at once.
'And yet… this place feels far away from everything. Isolated. His world—untouchable, unreachable. And I… I don't belong here.'
I let the curtain fall back into place and made my way to a pair of grand double doors. The bathroom was larger than my apartment. Marble walls, gilded mirrors, and technology I didn't even understand. A screen embedded into the wall flickered to life at my touch, controlling the shower, the steam, even the temperature of the room.
For nearly an hour, I distracted myself by pressing buttons like a curious child, watching jets of water shift direction, steam fill the space, music trickle from hidden speakers.
It was extravagant, impossibly so.
Leon's world was wealth, technology, luxury—achievements stacked upon his youth. While mine was a half-finished degree, a string of unstable jobs. Our worlds shouldn't have crossed. Yet here I was, in his robe, drowning in his scent.
When I finally stepped under the water, I lingered there, letting it wash over me. My body. Marked. Branded, the bites along my neck and breasts stared back at me in the mirror, each one a scarlet signature. My back bore trails of his mouth, my hips bore the weight of his hands.
My skin bore him like ink, as though he had written his name in every tender place.
As i stare at myself in the mirror, a memory flashed—my past. That same reflection once before, long ago, when I had vowed never to be left with such marks again. My hands trembled as I touched the bruises.
'Should I really blame all this on the drug? Or was it me? Because some part of me longed to be consumed by him?'
By the time I emerged, I was wrapped in a black bathrobe far too large for me, one that smelled faintly of him. I gathered my ruined dress, my heels, and his coat—the shield he had given me the night before. My bag and phone were nowhere in sight.
My plan was to slip out silently, change in the hall, and leave before he woke.
I sighed.
A taxi. I'll just take a taxi and leave this all behind.
Quietly, I slipped from the bedroom, clutching my things, planning to change once I was safely away. As i open the door, the hallway outside stole my breath. A sweeping rotunda, chandeliers cascading with crystal light, staircases like something carved for royalty.
For a moment I was stunned. Then reality clawed me back.
'What have I done… what mess have I walked into?'
"Good morning, Ms. Sze."
The voice startled me as I turned quickly. A mature woman stood there, poised, wearing a uniform and a warm, practiced smile.
"Young master instructed us not to let you leave while he is still asleep," she said with a small bow.
"If you would like, may I offer you breakfast while you wait?"
I froze.
My lips parted but no words came. "Um… can I just go?"
I whispered nervously, forcing a chuckle. "I'm late for my class."
Her smile never faltered.
"I'm afraid I cannot decide on my own, Ms. Sze. Please, wait for young master."
But before I could respond, another voice cut through—husky, heavy with sleep.
"What's the fuss?"
I turned sharply. The bedroom door opened, and there he was.
Leon.
Hair tousled, eyes half-lidded, A towel slung low around his hips, his chest bare, muscles rippling under the morning light. My breath hitched, and my body betrayed me, recalling every moment of last night with sharp heat.
The maid bowed again.
"Good morning, young master. I apologize for disturbing your rest. Ms. Sze wishes to leave."
Leon's eyes slid to me. Slow, deliberate. that lazy smirk curving his lips—sent a shiver racing through me
"Leaving so soon again?"
I forced my chin up. "I'm late for class. I'm going home."
In a heartbeat, his hand closed around my wrist—not rough, not restraining, but firm and impossibly gentle. He pulled me toward him, and my belongings fell, forgotten. He pressed me into his chest, his warmth wrapping around me like fire.
"Get me the breakfast here."
Leon's voice was low, steady, leaving no room for argument. The maid only bowed as the heavy door closed with a thud. My scattered belongings remained abandoned in the hallway,
His hand pressed flat against the door, caging me in.
His body followed, warm and overwhelming, as he leaned into me. His breath brushed against my skin, and then his face buried into the curve of my neck.
"Leon, stop…" My whisper trembled, softer than I intended, as his arms enveloped me, pulling me deeper into his hold.
"Why do you always do this?" His voice was muffled against my skin, but I could hear the sulk in his tone, almost like a boy denied what he wanted.
"Can't you just stay for a bit?"
I exhaled, closing my eyes for a heartbeat. His embrace was heavy, insistent, yet it was laced with something fragile—like he was afraid I would vanish if he let go.
Gently, I pressed my hand to his shoulder, attempting to push him back just enough to breathe.
"Okay," I whispered, surrendering to the weight of his plea.
"Okay… as long as you promise you won't do anything stupid."
A faint chuckle escaped him, the sound rumbling against my chest as he lifted his head. His eyes locked on mine—mischief dancing in their depths, but behind it, something rawer, harder to name.
"We've already done this and that," he said, lips curving into a playful, almost taunting smile.
"And now you ask me not to? Should I just drug you every day, Sherina, just to make you want me the way I always want you?"
Heat rushed to my face, my heart stumbling at the audacity of his words. My small palm rose instinctively, covering his eyes and nose as though I could hide his shameless grin from view.
"Stop it," I murmured, my voice tight with embarrassment.
"You… you already pushed me too far last night."
I slipped from his arms and turned away, but before I could take two steps, his hand caught mine, tugging me back into his chest. His lips brushed the back of my neck, grazing my skin with deliberate slowness. My knees weakened at the soft nip of his teeth.
"But you asked me," he murmured, each word a breath against my ear,
"to take you as many times as I wanted." His voice deepened, darkened.
"And you still haven't thanked me… for saving you."
His words pierced through me, leaving me still. He was right.
Without him last night....
I shivered at the thought. I would have been lost to those monsters.
And yet, standing here now, I wasn't sure I had escaped anything at all.
Because what stood before me wasn't a savior—it was a lion. A starving, dominant lion who had simply claimed what he wanted.
And somehow, that terrified me more than the hyenas ever could.
"I'll repay you somehow," I said quietly, my fingers brushing over the strong arm that encircled my waist.
His lips curved against my ear, his voice a whisper that made my pulse race.
"You can repay me now."
I stiffened slightly, tilting my head, trying to catch his gaze from the corner of my eye.
"H-how?"
He smirked, the edge of his mouth grazing my skin.
"Help me take a shower."
It wasn't a question. It wasn't even a request. It was a command—gentle in tone, but absolute, like the velvet-coated growl of a predator that had no intention of letting its prey escape.
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And that was how we ended up here.....
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His body pressing mine into the slick marble wall, caging me between his chest and the cold surface.
"Leon… gentle," I whispered, the plea melting into a moan as his broad frame pinned me tighter. His chest rose and fell against my back, every breath a reminder of the beast holding me.
He groaned low, biting softly at my ear before thrusting deeper between my thighs. My legs trembled, nearly giving out, but his grip on my waist kept me upright.
I felt him move, his length sliding out, teasing along the wet heat between my legs, not entering—yet tormenting me all the same.
I dared to turn, catching him in a glance. Water streamed down his hair, dripping over the sharp lines of his face. He looked like something carved from stone—handsome, dangerous, and devastatingly alive.
God, he was beautiful. Too beautiful.
My cheeks flushed when he caught me staring. His lips curved into a faint, knowing smirk. Embarrassed, I turned quickly, staring at my hands pressed against the wall, hiding in the mist.
But then his voice came, husky against the rush of water:
"What? You want me to put it in?" almost cruel with temptation, and before I could answer, he thrust again between my thighs.
The friction made me gasp, louder this time, the sound swallowed by the rush of water.
"N… no…" I managed, though my body betrayed me, arching back against him.
He had spared me—no penetration, not while I was still sore and trembling from the night before, not while the drug still lingered faintly in my veins..
Instead, he drove himself between my thighs, using the slippery cascade of water and my own shameful wetness to move harder, faster, deeper. I couldn't tell anymore if it was the shower sliding down us—or the heat pouring out of me.
'Was it mercy? Or was it a sweeter kind of torture?'
"Leon…" I cried, half protest, half plea.
His answer was more forceful thrusts, his hand covering mine against the wall, fingers lacing gently though his grip on my waist grew possessive, anchoring me. My legs no longer had strength, so he held me, supporting my weight as if I were nothing but silk in his arms.
He bent down, lips on my shoulder, groaning against my skin as his movements quickened. His breath was ragged, desperate.
My whole body shuddered when he came, hot and thick between my thighs, washing down quickly with the water yet still searing into me like fire.
Both of us were still catching our breath, but Leon wouldn't stop—his lips trailed along my damp shoulder, nibbling lightly as if he couldn't resist claiming me again, even in the midst of our exhaustion.
His body pressed against mine, his heat sinking into my trembling frame as he finally pulled himself free and wrapped me in his arms from behind.
"One more?" he whispered, his voice low and coaxing, almost childlike—as though he were asking for nothing more than another sweet, another indulgence.
I sighed, tilting my head back against him, half-tempted yet utterly drained.
"That's enough. I'm late for my class."
He chuckled softly, not at all deterred.
"Then… after your class?" His words brushed against my ear like a promise as he reached for the soap, lathering it in his large hands before gently rubbing it over my skin, slow and careful.
"Stop asking me for weird things," I muttered, trying to hide the way my heart skipped at his persistence. My fingers tangled in my wet hair, as if scrubbing away the heat he left burning on me.
He only sighed, a quiet sound of resignation, though the faint smile never left his lips. And so it went—through the rest of the morning, Leon treated me with a gentleness that felt both foreign and disarming. He carried me around the house as though I weighed nothing, never letting me strain myself. He sat with me as food was brought in, feeding me as though I were fragile, too delicate to hold even a spoon.
Every gesture, every touch, was filled with a tenderness I could not reconcile with the same man who had devoured me the night before.
It should have comforted me
Instead, it terrified me.
Because as he held me, as he smiled at me, as he smoothed my damp hair away from my face,
I realized the truth—
I was already falling.
Falling into something vast, dangerous, and unknown.
An abyss with no bottom.
And Leon…
He was the only one who controlled it.