The morning after their latest encounter, Ava woke to the soft hum of the city filtering through the penthouse windows, the skyline a jagged silhouette against the dawn. She lay sprawled across Julian's leather couch, the cool fabric a stark contrast to the heat still lingering in her skin. Her black dress was crumpled beside her, a silent testament to the night before, and Julian's shirt hung haphazardly over the armrest, his scent cedarwood and something wild clinging to it. She stretched, her muscles aching in the best way, and glanced at the man sprawled on the floor beside her, one arm flung over his face, his chest rising and falling with steady breaths.
"You're staring again," Julian muttered, his voice rough with sleep, though the smirk tugging at his lips betrayed his amusement. He didn't move, but his dark eyes cracked open, locking onto hers with that Alpha intensity that always set her pulse racing.
Ava sat up, pulling her hair into a messy bun, her badgirl confidence snapping back into place. "Just making sure you're still breathing after last night. You went hard harder than I expected." Her tone was teasing, but there was a flicker of truth in it. The way he'd taken her against the window, then let her dominate on the couch, had pushed their usual boundaries, leaving her both exhilarated and unsettled.
Julian propped himself up on one elbow, his abs flexing as he moved, a sight that made her throat tighten despite herself. "You didn't complain at the time," he said, his smirk widening. "In fact, I recall a few very enthusiastic encouragements." He reached for his phone on the coffee table, checking the time 6:47 AM before tossing it back down. "Breakfast?"
Ava arched a brow, pulling her dress on with deliberate slowness, letting the silk slide over her curves. "Breakfast? What, are we dating now?" The words were sharp, a reminder of their contract sex, no strings, no domesticity. But there was a challenge in her gaze, daring him to push back.
He laughed, a low, rich sound that sent a shiver down her spine. "Relax, Carter. It's just food. Unless you're scared you'll catch feelings over a bagel." He stood, stretching, his pants riding low on his hips, revealing the V-line she'd traced with her nails hours ago. "I've got meetings all day. You're welcome to join me or we can pick this up later."
The offer hung in the air, a new move in their game. Ava considered it, her mind racing. She was a freelance graphic designer, her schedule flexible, but spending more time with Julian outside their nocturnal trysts felt like crossing a line. Yet the Alpha in him, the way he commanded the room even half-dressed, pulled at her Dominant streak. She wanted to win this round.
"Later," she decided, slipping into her heels. "Same rules. No strings." She grabbed her purse, pausing at the door. "Text me."
As the elevator doors closed, Ava leaned against the wall, her reflection in the mirrored panels showing a woman who looked both victorious and wary. Julian was dangerous not just in bed, but in the way he made her question the game. She'd heard whispers about him at the bar where they'd met something about a high-stakes job, a past he didn't talk about. The scars on his back, the late-night calls he silenced, all hinted at a life beyond their affair. Forbidden love, she thought, the words from their unspoken contract echoing in her mind. She shook it off. This was about control, not complications.
By noon, Ava was at her favorite coffee shop in SoHo, a cramped but cozy spot with exposed brick walls and the scent of roasted beans thick in the air. She sipped a latte, sketching concepts for a client, when her phone buzzed. Julian's name flashed on the screen, a simple Meet me. 8 PM. New spot. No address, no details just the kind of cryptic command that made her blood hum. She typed back a quick Where? and got a pin drop in response: a rooftop bar in the Meatpacking District, upscale and discreet. Perfect for their game.
That evening, Ava arrived at the bar, the city lights stretching out below like a sea of stars. She wore a red dress that hugged her like a second skin, her badgirl edge on full display, and spotted Julian at a corner table, nursing a whiskey. He stood as she approached, his suit impeccable, the Alpha in him radiating through the tailored fabric. "You clean up nice," he said, his eyes raking over her with unabashed hunger.
"Flattery won't get you anywhere," she replied, sliding into the seat across from him. "What's this about? New spot, new rules?"
Julian leaned forward, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial murmur. "No new rules. Just a change of scenery. Thought we'd mix it up." He slid a keycard across the table, its sleek black surface glinting under the dim lights. "Private room upstairs. More… space to play."
Ava's pulse quickened, but she kept her expression neutral, picking up the keycard and turning it over in her fingers. "And if I say no?"
"Then we finish our drinks and go home," he said, his tone casual but his eyes intense. "Your move, Carter."
She hated how much she wanted to say yes, how the Dominant in her craved the challenge. "Fine," she said, tucking the keycard into her clutch. "But I'm leading this time."
The private room was a revelation floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the Hudson, a plush velvet couch, and a bar stocked with top-shelf liquor. The door locked behind them with a soft click, sealing them in their own world. Ava didn't waste time. She pushed Julian against the window, her lips crashing into his, the kiss a battle of wills. He groaned, his hands finding her waist, but she pinned them above his head, asserting her control.
"You're trouble," he muttered against her mouth, his breath hot and ragged.
"And you love it," she shot back, her fingers working his belt, her dress riding up as she pressed herself against him. The game had shifted, the power dynamic teetering, and she intended to win.
What followed was a dance of dominance and surrender, more intense than the night before. Ava guided him to the couch, straddling him, her movements deliberate as she took him inside her, setting a rhythm that made them both gasp. "Too hard?" she taunted, echoing his words from the couch, her nails digging into his shoulders.
"Never," he growled, his hands gripping her hips, urging her faster, his Alpha nature surging. The tension built, a storm of pleasure and power, until they shattered together, the city lights blurring as they clung to each other.
Afterward, they lay tangled on the couch, the silence heavy. Julian traced a finger down her spine, a tender gesture that made her tense. "Don't," she whispered, pulling away, her voice firm. "No strings."
He nodded, but his eyes held a question she refused to answer. As she dressed, her phone buzzed a text from an unknown number. He's not what he seems. Watch out. Her stomach dropped. The game was changing, and the forbidden love she'd dismissed was creeping closer.