Lara's POV
For the first time in my life, I was naked before a man. I thought I should feel embarrassed, nervous, maybe even afraid, but all I could feel was the rush of heat flooding through me, a strange, unnameable hunger that left me trembling.
When Marco began unbuttoning his jeans, I couldn't look away. He was impossibly beautiful, every line and shadow of his body carved with purpose. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't imagined this before, but the reality, the sight of him standing before me, strong and breathtaking, made every secret fantasy I'd ever had feel pale and innocent in comparison.
He looked at me like he was memorizing every inch of me, and the weight of that gaze made my heart race as if I were standing at the edge of something dangerous and divine.
Every touch set my skin alight. His lips found me, tracing fire down my throat, over my collarbone, lower still until I forgot how to breathe. My body moved on instinct, meeting his every touch, my hands exploring him with the same urgency that burned in his eyes.
Outside, the storm had faded, but inside me it raged on, wild and relentless. The only sounds were our uneven breaths and the thunder of my heartbeat echoing in my ears.
When he whispered my name against my skin, the world fell away. Every thought, every fear, every fragment of restraint dissolved into heat and helpless surrender.
He made me feel so utterly alive that I forgot everything else, logic, guilt, the truth that some desires demand a price. But in that moment, none of it mattered. All I knew was that for one night, I belonged completely to Marco Blackwell. And somehow, that was enough.
"You're beautiful," he groaned as he went lower. The moment his mouth moved down to my thighs and to the sensitive place between my legs, I moaned, my fingers tangling in his dark hair as I let go, climaxing against his mouth. The sensation was so overwhelming that I forgot how to breathe.
He didn't stop until I was trembling beneath his touch, lost between pleasure and disbelief that any of this was real. When he finally hovered above me, the sight of him took my breath away. I should have been terrified, but instead I felt a rush of warmth spread through me, a mix of excitement, trust, and something deeper I couldn't name.
I had never been with anyone before, and the thought that it would be him, my handsome, impossible boss, made my heart flutter wildly. I'd dreamed of this moment, but dreams could never prepare me for the way his gaze softened when he realized the truth.
"Lara, you're so tight," he said, his expression shifting. The hunger in his eyes softened into something gentler, something that made my chest ache. "Lara... don't tell me you're still pure?" he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.
"Please, don't stop," I managed between ragged breaths, afraid he would pull away, afraid the magic would break.
He brushed his thumb along my cheek. "Never," he promised, his voice steady and full of reverence. Then he kissed me slowly and tenderly, as if he wanted to make sure every second would be remembered.
The rhythm between us became something more than passion. It was discovery, wonder, connection. The fear I had melted away, replaced by warmth that bloomed from within. Every movement, every breath, felt like a language only we could understand.
When it was over, the world fell quiet. Even the forest outside seemed to hold its breath. Our heartbeats were the only sound, echoing softly in the stillness.
He collapsed beside me, breathless, his skin glistening with the same warmth that covered mine. For a moment, I thought he would pull away and retreat into that unreachable world he came from. But instead, Marco wrapped an arm around me, guiding my head to rest on his chest. His heartbeat was strong, steady, comforting.
I felt sore, but in the sweetest way, as if every ache was a memory of him etched into me. I couldn't stop smiling. My eyelids grew heavy, and before sleep claimed me, I whispered a silent thank you to the universe for this impossible dream that had somehow come true.
For once, I believed that maybe a girl like me could be loved this way.
When I woke up, the morning light was soft against my skin. The first thing I noticed was the soreness between my legs, a dull ache that brought with it a rush of memories. Heat crept up my face as everything from last night flooded back. His hands. His voice. The way he whispered my name like a promise.
I turned to the side, expecting to see him there, but the space beside me was empty. The sheets were still warm, carrying the faint scent of his skin. I reached out, my fingers brushing against the hollow left behind, and a strange feeling stirred in my chest—something between longing and disbelief.
Then I felt it. A slight sting on my neck, followed by a strange warmth pulsing beneath the skin. I touched the spot gently and winced. It felt tender, almost like a bite, though I couldn't remember being bitten. My heart began to race, and for a moment, I thought it was only the memory of last night making me feel this way. But no. It was different.
It was as if every sense had been sharpened. I could hear the faint rustle of leaves outside, the distant hum of birds, even the rhythm of my own heartbeat echoing in my ears. The air smelled richer, the world felt more alive. And before I even turned my head, I knew he was there. I could feel him.
I smiled without meaning to, my lips curving at the thought of him. Somehow, the idea that we shared something deeper now made me blush all over again. I didn't understand why I felt so connected to him, only that the feeling was powerful and impossible to ignore.
But the warmth inside me dimmed the moment I heard his voice.
"You should get up now, Ms. Quinn."
The sound of it was cool, detached. Gone was the tenderness from last night, the man who had held me like I was something precious. I froze, the words sinking in slowly. Ms. Quinn. Not Lara. Not the woman he had kissed until she forgot her name.
"I don't want them to call the police or send a rescue team to find us," he added, his tone distant, almost businesslike.
I stared at him, struggling to make sense of the sudden shift. The same man who had whispered love against my skin now stood by the door, half-dressed, collected, unreadable. My heart sank, though I tried to hide it.
He was back to being Marco Blackwell, my boss. And I was just his secretary, the woman who had given him everything, only to realize that what I thought was something sacred might have meant nothing to him at all.
He didn't even look at me. Not once. His tone was clipped, cold, as if the man who had whispered my name into the dark hours of the night had never existed.
"Let's go," he said flatly before turning away.
I sat there frozen for a moment, staring at the door he had already walked through. The silence pressed on me until I could barely breathe. My body felt heavy, sore, not just from what had happened, but from the weight of realization settling in my chest.
When I finally gathered the strength to move, I struggled to get up and dress, every movement a reminder of the night before. Outside, Marco was already walking ahead toward the reception hall, not even glancing back, not offering to help as I tried to keep up.
The path was uneven, and I had to climb over rocks, duck under branches, and jump across small puddles left by last night's rain. He didn't slow down, not once. My hands trembled as I followed him, my heart and pride battling inside me. A voice in my head screamed that this was my fault, that this was what I got for being foolish enough to fall for my boss, to dream he could ever feel the same way.
By the time we reached the reception area, my heart was already breaking, but what came next shattered what little I had left.
Serene was there, standing by the entrance in her usual elegance, her eyes lighting up the moment she saw him. Without hesitation, she ran straight into his arms, curling herself against him as if she had always belonged there. And he did not pull away.
He kissed her. Right there, in front of everyone.
The sound around me dimmed. The laughter, the faint music, even the murmurs of the crowd. All of it dissolved into silence. My vision blurred as I stared at them, my body frozen where I stood. For a heartbeat, I could not even breathe.
He kissed her longer than I expected, long enough for the realization to sink deep into me. My chest constricted, and something sharp twisted inside, but I refused to let anyone see. Slowly, I looked away, pretending to focus on anything else. My hands shook, so I clasped them together until my nails dug into my palms. The sting helped me stay upright when all I wanted to do was crumble.
I swallowed hard, trying to steady my breath. I told myself it did not matter, that it was none of my business, that I had no right to feel this way. But the ache inside me refused to listen. The image of him holding her burned into my mind no matter how tightly I closed my eyes.
The man who had touched me like I was something precious now held another woman as if I had never existed. He smiled against her lips, and I felt something inside me break. The memory of his warmth, his voice, his promises turned cold and distant in an instant.
I felt so small standing there, surrounded by people who had no idea that my heart was shattering in plain sight. My chest ached, and I forced myself to keep breathing, to keep standing, to keep pretending that I was fine.
That was the moment I realized how foolish I had been. How naive it was to believe that one night could ever mean something to him. To him, it had been nothing more than a mistake to be forgotten. But to me, it had been everything.