Maya's POV
My pulse thundered in my ears.
He unfastened his belt with deliberate slowness, sliding his pants down until they pooled at his feet, leaving him in nothing but fitted black boxer briefs that clung to every inch of his frame. I nearly stopped breathing altogether.
His body appeared carved from marble, every contour designed to make women weak. And from the confident way he carried himself, he was fully aware of his effect.
He moved through the water toward me with predatory grace, taking his time as if savoring the moment. His gaze burned with unmistakable hunger. For me.
Doubt flickered through my mind. Here was this mysterious man, pretending to be wealthy during the day, now staring at me like I was precious. What had I gotten myself into? But then Julian's face at the wedding flashed before me, along with Bianca's pitying smile that screamed I was too pathetic to land someone like Sebastian without paying for it. I craved this feeling. I needed to feel desirable again, even if money was changing hands.
When he reached me, his palms found my waist beneath the surface, fingers trailing electric paths along my hypersensitive skin.
"Your whole body is shaking," he whispered, his lips hovering dangerously near mine.
"No, it's not."
That wicked, devastating smile curved his mouth.
"We'll find out."
His hands wandered lower, skimming down my spine, caressing the swell of my hips before settling between my legs.
Then he made contact.
I sucked in a sharp breath, my fingers digging into his muscled shoulders.
He didn't rush. Instead, he tortured me.
His fingertips explored like he was memorizing every inch, cataloging each response, drinking in every reaction.
As though he wanted to make each second last forever.
And my body betrayed me with tremors.
He definitely noticed.
Before I could process what was happening, he swept me up effortlessly, my thighs instinctively wrapping around his waist.
That's when I felt his hardness pressing insistently against me, thick, heated, throbbing. And God, he was enormous.
The logical voice in my head shrieked that this was just professional performance. Every calculated caress, every smoldering glance, every seductive murmur was simply part of his routine. But in that moment, I didn't give a damn. I needed to feel wanted. I needed to silence those vicious words still echoing through my thoughts: 'You were always so boring.'
"You enjoy it when I make you wait, don't you?" he murmured against my throat.
My nails scraped his shoulders when his heated tongue drew slow circles on my pulse point.
"Sebastian..."
He chuckled low, the rumble vibrating through me and drawing another gasp from my lips.
"Better hold tight."
Then he truly kissed me. Nothing gentle about it. Pure demand, scorching heat, complete possession.
His hands roamed my slick skin, discovering, gripping, owning. Every caress felt intentional, like he understood precisely where to touch, how much pressure to apply, exactly how to unravel my control.
And unravel I did.
I surrendered completely, losing all sense of time, forgetting the agony that had consumed me. In those electric moments, only we existed, along with the lightning bolts of pleasure racing through me with each touch.
My fingers twisted through his damp hair, tugging, directing, silently begging for more.
He pulled me closer and glided through the water until my back hit the pool's edge, his powerful frame caging me against the wall.
"Now you can't escape," he breathed against my mouth.
I managed a breathless laugh.
"Who says I want to escape?"
Satisfaction gleamed in his eyes.
My bra disappeared with such skill I barely registered it happening. Then his mouth was on me. Searing heat. Wet tongue. The gentle scrape of teeth. I yanked his hair when he circled my nipple and applied perfect suction.
"Sebastian..."
"I love how you say my name."
'If that's even what it really is,' flashed through my mind. How many times had he performed this scene? How many women had gasped a fake name?
His fingers found the edge of my soaked panties, tugged once—and they vanished.
Water swirled around us with each movement, and when he positioned me exactly as he wanted, there was no turning back.
One strong hand held me steady while the other guided himself into position.
Then he drove into me.
I cried out.
My spine arched against him.
"Jesus, Maya..." he growled through clenched teeth, his voice raw with need.
Something in that tone seemed too genuine for an act.
Like for one unguarded moment, he'd forgotten I was paying him.
He started slowly, eyes locked on mine, watching every expression cross my face.
I felt everything intensely. The warm water felt frigid compared to the fire burning between us.
My nails dug crescents into his shoulders, my legs tightening their hold around him.
I craved more. Needed more. Had to forget everything beyond this pool, beyond this stolen moment.
He read me perfectly. His grip on my waist became iron.
Then he claimed me utterly. Each thrust was powerful, deep, purposeful.
Pleasure crashed over me in relentless waves, drowning rational thought, and my body matched his rhythm, clinging desperately for more.
Reality vanished.
Only he remained.
The way he supported me, how he seemed to instinctively know exactly what would drive me wild.
His rough sounds of pleasure mixing with my own.
Water splashing rhythmically around us.
The collision of our bodies, harder, faster, more desperate with each surge.
My breath hitched as the coiling tension inside reached its breaking point.
I was right there.
So damn close.
"Sebastian..."
"Let go for me, Maya," he commanded in my ear, voice thick with desire.
Those words shattered my last defense.
Climax ripped through me like wildfire, tearing me apart and rebuilding me simultaneously, obliterating every trace of self-control.
I came apart completely in his embrace, every muscle convulsing with overwhelming intensity.
Seconds later, he joined me.
With one final, devastating thrust, his body went rigid and he groaned my name through gritted teeth, face buried in my neck as he lost himself entirely.
Afterward, only our labored breathing disturbed the quiet.
His arms remained wrapped around me, solid and secure, as if he couldn't bear to release me.
He pressed gentle kisses to my shoulder, lips tender against my skin.
When he finally looked at me, that infuriating smile had returned.
"Best investment I've ever made," I whispered before thinking better of it.
But the instant those words escaped, reality crashed back. Investment. That's what this was. A business arrangement. A purchased fantasy.
For precious minutes, I'd forgotten none of this was authentic. That he was simply following the script I'd funded. That tomorrow I'd return to that suffocating room at my parents' house, back to fitting wedding gowns on women like Bianca, back to crying myself to sleep over Julian's broken promises.
Tonight though, for these stolen hours, I wasn't the betrayed and discarded woman. I wasn't the career failure. I wasn't the pathetic girl who'd moved home at twenty-six.
I was powerful.
And Sebastian?
Sebastian was worth every dollar.
The catch?
I was about to discover the true price of this arrangement.