I need to go home!

“You… it’s not…”

Isabelle’s face contorted with a mixture of shock and fury as she watched Lucas, her supposed love interest, lock lips with another woman right in front of her.

Her chest tightened, breath growing shallow as the scene unfolded before her disbelieving eyes.

Lucas, still holding Amelia, didn’t even bother to offer Isabelle an explanation. His cold indifference only fanned the flames of her rage. With a sharp stomp of her heel against the marble floor, Isabelle turned on her heel and stormed out of the mansion, the sound of the doors slamming shut echoing through the grand hall.

But Lucas's real struggle was only beginning. What appeared to be a heated kiss from the outside was far from passionate on his end. The truth was that when Isabelle had still been in the room, Lucas's lips had barely brushed against Amelia's in a fleeting, accidental moment.

But the instant Isabelle had stormed out, Amelia had pulled him closer with surprising strength, her hands locking behind his neck in a tight grip.

Lucas tried to pull away, struggling to free himself from Amelia's grasp, but her hold was unyielding. Her fingers dug into the nape of his neck, and before he could react, her tongue pressed against his lips, demanding entry. Panic flared in his chest as he realized she wasn’t letting go.

‘What the hell is wrong with her? Is she that drunk?’ Lucas screamed inwardly, his mind racing as he tried to make sense of the situation.

He had never been one for physical intimacy, let alone being forced into it. The thought of merging bodies with another person, of surrendering to something so primal, was his worst nightmare.

Even in his rare musings about marriage and children, the idea of touch was so repellent to him that he had once imagined becoming a father only through sperm donation, completely detached from the act itself.

Amelia, on the other hand, was the polar opposite. She had no reservations about enjoying herself, and certainly no qualms about using men for her pleasure.

She didn't seem to care about emotions, and at this moment, she had decided Lucas was hers for the taking.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Lucas managed to wrench himself free, gasping for air. His chest heaved with short, frantic breaths as though he had just surfaced from drowning. He leaned back, wiping his mouth in shock.

“Amelia… what the hell are you doing?” he panted, his voice ragged with disbelief.

Amelia, her eyes half-lidded with desire and a lazy grin on her lips, only seemed more emboldened by his question.

She moved in again, quicker this time, her lips catching his in a feverish kiss, her tongue slipping into his mouth before he could shut it.

Lucas felt his body betray him. His muscles, tense and resistant moments ago, suddenly softened under her touch.

He knew he should push her away, stop this madness, but his mind was becoming clouded, fogged by the heat of the moment. His hands, moving on their own, found their way beneath her dress, cupping her breasts through the soft fabric.

“Hmmm~ ~” A low moan escaped from Amelia’s throat, her body arching in response to his touch.

The sound was like a spark, igniting something deep within Lucas, something he hadn’t known existed. His hands moved of their own volition, exploring her body as his lips trailed down her neck, leaving a trail of hot breath against her flushed skin.

Amelia murmured something incoherent, her voice slurred as she mumbled, “It’s cold… Emily, close the windows…”

Lucas, too far gone, didn’t catch her words. His lips moved lower, kissing the curve of her chest as his hands fumbled with the buttons of her shirt.

One by one, they came undone, revealing the crimson lace of her bra and the swell of her cleavage beneath it.

But just as Lucas was about to lose himself entirely, Amelia stirred. Her eyes fluttered open, the haze of alcohol lifting from her mind just in time to realize what was happening. She glanced down and saw Lucas, halfway through unhooking her bra.

“What the hell?!” she screamed, delivering a swift kick to his stomach that sent him tumbling off her and onto the cold hardwood floor.

Lucas groaned as he hit the ground, the impact knocking the wind out of him. He lay there for a moment, stunned, while Amelia scrambled to her feet, hastily buttoning her shirt with trembling fingers.

“What were you trying to do?” she demanded, her voice shaking with anger and confusion.

“Shit… shit…” Lucas cursed under his breath, slapping the sides of his face in frustration.

How had things spiraled out of control so quickly? He had always prided himself on his self-discipline, his ability to keep his emotions—and desires—in check. Yet here he was, on the floor like a fool.

Amelia wasn’t about to let it go. “Why the hell were you on me when I woke up?” she snapped, her eyes narrowing in accusation.

“Were you asleep?” Lucas asked, his voice still breathless from the struggle. He sat up, wiping the sweat from his brow and trying to make sense of what had just happened.

Amelia glared at him, taking a cautious step back as if she didn’t trust him to stay away. “Of course, I was! What kind of question is that?”

“You led me on,” Lucas shot back defensively, but the moment the words left his mouth, he regretted them.

“I led you on? I was drunk, you idiot!” Amelia's eyes flashed with fury, her voice rising with each word.

“And so am I!” Lucas countered, his frustration mounting. But as soon as he saw her expression darken further, he scrambled to recover. “I mean… I don’t know what happened. I just lost control for a moment.”

Amelia crossed her arms, her eyes boring into him. “So, what? You’re a sex addict now?”

Lucas froze, her words cutting deep. Was that what he was? He had always been terrified of losing control, of letting his baser instincts take over. He shook his head, unable to find the right words.

“I… I need to go home,” Amelia said finally, her tone softening as she picked her phone up from the floor.

“At this hour?” Lucas asked, slowly rising to his feet. He walked away from her, heading into the kitchen.

He needed a drink—something to calm his nerves, to make sense of the chaos in his head. He grabbed a bottle of wine and poured himself a glass, adding a few ice cubes for good measure.

He returned to the living room, sipping from the glass as he sat down on the sofa, his mind still reeling. Amelia watched him warily, arms still folded across her chest.

“I said I need to go home,” she repeated, her voice firmer this time.

Lucas sighed, swirling the wine in his glass. “And I told you, it’s late. My driver’s already gone home. You should just stay here tonight.”

Amelia opened her mouth to argue, but her stomach interrupted with a loud growl. She blushed, glancing away in embarrassment.

Lucas chuckled softly, shaking his head. “How about we solve that problem first?”