Zaira, half-reclined on the black leather sofa, barely lifted her head when she heard the door close with a soft creak muffled by the thick carpets. The low hum of the air conditioning mixed with the room's perfume: aged whiskey, expensive tobacco, and a deep wood fragrance.
Her eyelids felt heavy, but she could make out the silhouette of a man advancing towards her with a firm and confident step, as if the whole world belonged to him.
The air tensed, dense, charged with electricity. A shiver ran down her spine, raising her skin.
First came his scent: a wild blend of cedar, vetiver, tanned leather... something primal and masculine that hit her in the stomach like a soft punch. Zaira inhaled involuntarily, feeling that aroma etched into her memory.
Leonardo Santos.
Tall, imposing, with his dark suit embracing the strength of his still athletic body despite the years. His jet-black hair had silver streaks that shone under the dim lighting, as if time had caressed him with respect.
The neatly trimmed beard framed his hard jaw. But what really caught her was his gaze: metallic gray eyes, cold as steel, that seemed to see beyond her clothes, beyond her skin... to her very soul.
Zaira blinked, her heart beginning to drum against her ribs.
"Who...?" she stammered, her voice breaking, trying in vain to sit up.
Leonardo did not answer. He just let the distance between them evaporate.
His Italian shoes sounded muffled on the carpet. Each step was like the beat of a war drum.
When he was in front of her, Zaira felt his shadow fall over her body. Instinctively, she wanted to get up and back away, but her body, warm and dazed by alcohol, refused to obey.
He watched her like a hunter studies his prey.
And then, without warning, his large, firm hands closed around her waist, lifting her with a humiliating ease. Zaira let out a choked cry, her legs wobbling.
"Let me go!" she moaned, her voice a desperate whisper.
Leonardo tilted his head, watching her with a mixture of cruel amusement and dark desire. The corner of his mouth curved into a barely perceptible smile.
"Don't play hard to get, doll," he purred, his rough voice caressing her skin like scratchy velvet. "Look at me... Your eyes are begging me to devour you."
Before she could reply, his mouth fell on hers.
The first kiss was not a touch. It was an assault.
He kissed her with the violence of a hungry man, stealing her breath, savoring her resistance with a perverse patience.
His tongue invaded her mouth, exploring it without asking permission. The bitter taste of whiskey in his breath mixed with the trembling sweetness of the young woman, creating a poison that Zaira absorbed with every beat.
She hit his chest weakly, her fists getting lost against the hardness of his torso. She could feel every muscle under the fabric of his shirt, every powerful beat of his heart.
Leonardo grunted against her mouth, a guttural sound that made her shudder to her core.
His hands slid down her back, groping her, claiming her, marking her as his in a language her body understood better than her mind.
Zaira moaned, a low, broken note, when he held the back of her neck, pulling her towards him. Her lips parted in a mute plea and Leonardo took advantage of it, deepening the kiss until he made her forget her own name.
The dim lights cast golden flashes on the scene.
The cold marble of the walls seemed to whisper forbidden secrets.
The blue velvet of the curtains absorbed every moan, every choked gasp.
Leonardo separated just enough to look at her.
Her pupils were dilated, almost black, and her heavy breathing rose and fell in her powerful chest.
One of his hands traced the line of her jaw, down her exposed neck, following the frantic pulse that beat under her skin.
"Tonight... you will be everything I need, I like that you play hard to get," he murmured, his voice a sinful whisper.
Zaira swallowed, trapped in that gaze like a deer before a wolf.
She felt her skirt being slowly pushed up by expert hands. The brush of Leonardo's fingers on her bare thighs tore a gasp from her lips.
Her skin crawled where he touched her, as if each caress ignited a spark that consumed her from within.
"You're trembling," he mocked, sliding his mouth over her neck. "I like it."
She closed her eyes tightly, biting her lip to keep from sobbing. But when his lips found the sensitive curve of her collarbone, Zaira arched her back against his body, seeking more of that madness, more of that sweet annihilation.
Leonardo didn't let go of her. He sat down on the sofa first and dragged her to sit astride him, as if she were a trophy.
His hands took hold of her face, caressing it with a deceptive tenderness before crushing her against his mouth again, devouring her.
The heat of his latent erection under his pants pressed against Zaira's crotch, tearing a moan of pure need from her.
She rested her hands on his shoulders, her nails digging slightly into his skin. Her mind screamed for him to stop, that this was wrong, that she should run...
But her body had already surrendered.
Leonardo's shirt soon flew open, revealing a chest of defined muscles, covered by tattoos that begged to be caressed.
Zaira, trembling, ran her fingers over his hot skin.
Leonardo let out a grunt of approval and slid the straps of her dress down, exposing her breasts.
His mouth closed over one of her nipples in a hungry movement, making her moan loudly.
He sucked, bit gently, while his other hand moved slowly but inexorably towards the moisture that soaked her underwear.
"Look at you..." Leonardo whispered, raising his gaze to her, his lips moist. "You are made to be adored. To be possessed."
Zaira sobbed, not knowing if it was from shame or ecstasy.
His skillful hand parted the fabric, finding her throbbing, moist center. A single brush of his fingers was enough to make her shudder, her nails scratching his shoulders.
"That's it..." he murmured, pleased. "Let it out, doll. Tonight you are free. Tonight... you are mine."
And without further warning, Leonardo invaded her with his finger, then with another, stretching her, preparing her, while his mouth returned to hers to stifle every scream, every plea, every tear shed of pleasure.
The night, outside the suite, continued to vibrate with the music of the club, the distant beat of the bass.
But for them, the world had disappeared.
Only the darkness, the desire, remained...
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