Isabella's voice trembled, a soft, breathless plea cutting through the heavy silence of the office. "Aiden…?" she called, her body slumped against the mahogany desk, slick with sweat and trembling with exhaustion.
Her once-pristine green gown lay in tatters on the floor, her lush curves exposed, glistening under the dim light. Her cheeks burned a deep crimson, flushed with the afterglow of pleasure and the sting of her shattered pride. Her emerald eyes, still hazy with the remnants of ecstasy, flickered toward him, searching for something—answers, dominance, or perhaps a trace of the man who'd just claimed her so completely.
