ALARIC'S POV
She doesn't speak after I give her the choice and just looks at me with those storm filled eyes, mascara streaked like a water fall, lips parted and breathing like a damned sinner on the edge of making a fucking confession.
And then she turns, walks toward the bed and...
Doesn't remove the heels.
Good girl.
She climbs up slowly, letting the curve of her ass to peek beneath that scrap of lace and she doesn't look back, she knows I'm watching and wants me to.
And fuck, do I want to.
I move quietly behind her, unhurried and completely focused on the feast right in front of me.
"You listen well," I murmur.
She doesn't answer, but she shivers.
God, I love it when they shiver.
I reach into the drawer near the bed, pull out a long black silk blindfold, and crawl onto the mattress with her.
"You know the rule," I say in a deep voice. "One night no names."
She nods once, slowly.
"And one more thing…" I say and tighten the blindfold around her eyes, covering them gently.
"You don't talk unless I say so."
She breathes in hard through her nose, and nods again.
I move her onto her knees, then lean in to whisper against the shell of her ear.
"From this moment on, I want you to forget the world, forget whoever you were before you walked in here."
I pause and then tighten the sash. "Tonight, you're mine."
Her breathing changes immediately, faster and sharper, I can smell the heat rising off her skin.
It's addictive, so I bend down and kiss the base of her neck, slowly.
"Tell me something," I murmur, grazing my lips over her collarbone.
"Are you normally this obedient?"
She doesn't speak and I chuckle.
"You are now."
My tie is already off, so I wrap it around her wrists and guide her arms up over her head, securing them to the bedpost.
"I'll untie you when I'm finished," I say. "Until then… you don't move unless I say so."
And she nods again.
She's playing her part perfectly, I note again, too perfectly even.
My fingers trail down her side, admiring the curve of her waist and the way her hips shift under my touch.
Her body doesn't lie; she wants this, every second and every stroke.
But I've had escorts before, they don't move like this and they don't feel like this.
She's got chaos in her, barely held in and I want to drag it out of her, inch by inch, moan by moan.
"Spread your legs," I growl.
And she does.
God, she does.
I lean back, admiring the view like it's a work of art created solely for me because tonight it is.
My hands roam her thighs, gripping them hard enough to leave a bruise and she lets out a small gasp.
I love when they gasp.
"Do you want me to touch you?" I ask.
She nods.
"Use your words."
"…yes, sir."
Sir.
That words shouldn't affect me, but it does, and that one word burns straight through me.
I grip her chin, forcing her blindfolded face toward mine. "Say it again."
"…Yes, sir."
My cock twitches and I bite back a groan.
I push her onto her back, hovering over her and letting the tip of my fingers trail between her breasts, down her stomach and over the thin lace between her thighs.
She's soaking, barely breathing and perfect.
"Do you still want this?" I ask.
"Yes, sir," she breathes.
I tear the lace off with one sharp tug and she gasps, but I cover her mouth with mine, kissing her deeply and hungrily.
Then my fingers slide inside her.
She moans— finally moans— and I feel my growing obsession bloom in full.
She's not some high-end call girl, she's something else and something mine I need more of... right now.
I slide my mouth down her neck and over her chest, until I'm between her legs, tasting her slowly and dragging my tongue against her heat, making her squirm beneath the silk ropes.
She cries out then tries to close her thighs but I don't let her.
"Keep them open," I snarl.
"Do you want me to stop?"
"N- no, sir— please— don't stop—"
I don't.
I destroy her with my mouth, one flick of my fucking tongue at a time, until she's arching and trembling and begging me with her whole body.
Then she comes and I don't stop.
---
It's sometime around 4AM when I finally collapse beside her, sweaty, breathless and thoroughly satisfied.
She lies on her stomach with the blindfold still in place and her wrists red from the tie.
I untie her gently and drag her into my arms, and her body fits like she was made just to be there.
Yesterday was... fucking intoxicating, but her silence still nags me.
She didn't talk much, didn't ask for anything and didn't try to flirt or upsell her services like the others always do.
She just… surrendered, fully and willingly to me; it felt too real, and too raw.
Something's off.
But I don't push or ask for her name again, I follow my own damn rule.
One night, no names.
Still, I memorize the curve of her back as she sleeps and the way her lashes brush against the blindfold, even the tiny mole near her collarbone.
But it's the sound of her breathing that gets me; that's not the sound of a whore.
Still thinking about this, I close my eyes and fall asleep with her curled into my chest.
But when I wake up…
She's gone.
The bed is cold, the sheets are all pulled back, there's no perfume and no shoes.
There's only a slip of paper on the nightstand written in lipstick:
> "Thanks for the night. – Eden."
Eden.
That's a fake name.
Of course it's fake; no escort worth ten grand would vanish without collecting her envelope.
I pick up my phone and swipe to the hotel's security app, pull up the hallway feed and rewind to four a.m.
There.
There she is, running barefoot with her heels in her right hand with her dress torn and her eyes wild.
She looks nothing like she looked when she walked in yesterday.
I tap the screen and zoom in to see blood at the hem of her dress--- the same blood I had dismissed as a silly pattern design last night.
But it's not hers; I covered every inch of her body last night so I'm sure it's someone else's.
My jaw tightens and my fingers curl into fists.
Who the hell did I just let into my bed?
I hit speed dial and my head of surveillance answers before the first ring finishes.
"Yeah, boss?"
"Find out everything about her," I growl.
"The girl who left the penthouse this morning. Pull up facial recognition, license plate footage and any guest check-ins that match. I want her name, her address, and every goddamn secret she's hiding."
There's a second's pause.
"Should I bring her in when we find her?"
My mouth curls into a wicked smile.
"No not yet, let me know when you find her," I tell him and disconnect the call.
Then I go over to the bed and smell the side of the sheets she laid on
Now I don't just want to fuck her, I want to own her.