Don't You Dare Leave This Room

Sky shifted restlessly in the bed, the golden rays of the morning sun filtering through the curtains and warming her skin. A dull ache radiated from her core, a relentless reminder of last night’s passion.

Her thighs clenched instinctively, a soft whimper escaping her lips as her body recalled the way Xavier had thoroughly claimed her. She groaned, burying her face into the pillow, her cheeks flushing at the memory.

Rolling over to the other side, she reached out, expecting to find Xavier beside her. The sheets were cool to the touch, his presence absent.

Disappointment flared briefly, but then she heard the sound of rushing water coming from the ensuite bathroom. Her heart skipped a beat. He’s still here.

For a moment, she considered staying in bed, but then a sharp pang of urgency struck her. Her flight. The morning flight she couldn’t afford to miss. The one that would take her away from this city, away from the chaos and into the fresh start she so desperately needed.

“Shit!” she hissed, bolting upright. Her body protested the sudden movement, her sore muscles and aching core making her wince. “Fuck…” she muttered under her breath, rubbing her temples. She grabbed her phone from the nightstand, her eyes widening as the clock confirmed her worst fear—time was running out.

Throwing the covers aside, Sky swung her legs over the edge of the bed, her naked body shivering slightly as the cool air kissed her overheated skin.

She stumbled toward the pile of discarded clothes from last night, her movements hurried yet clumsy. Every step reminded her of Xavier’s dominance, the soreness between her thighs a constant tease of his overwhelming presence.

As she bent to pick up her bra, the bathroom door creaked open. She froze, her heart slamming against her ribcage. Slowly, she turned her head, and there he was—Xavier.

The sight of him stole her breath.

Water dripped from his damp hair, trailing down the sharp lines of his face and over his broad shoulders. Droplets clung to his chest, accentuating every ripple of his muscles before sliding down the ridges of his abs.

Her gaze faltered, caught between awe and shock, until it dropped lower—down to the undeniable evidence of his masculinity. He was utterly naked, unapologetically so, and completely at ease in his own skin.

Sky’s mouth went dry. She gulped, her eyes betraying her as they lingered on him far longer than they should. Heat pooled in her belly, and she pressed her thighs together instinctively, biting her lower lip as her body betrayed her composure.

“Going somewhere, Angel?” Xavier’s deep, teasing voice cut through the tension like a blade. He tilted his head, a smirk playing on his lips as he casually rubbed a towel through his hair, entirely unbothered by his nudity.

“Jesus, Xavier, wear something!” Sky snapped, her voice high-pitched as she turned sharply to face the wall, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. Her pulse raced, her body betraying her resolve. She could feel his presence, the heat of his gaze searing into her back like a brand.

“Don’t act like you don’t like what you see, Angel,” he taunted, his voice dripping with amusement. She heard his footsteps—slow, deliberate—as he crossed the room toward her. Her heart pounded as if it were trying to escape her chest.

“Xavier,” she began, her voice trembling, “I’m serious. Put some damn clothes on.”

But he didn’t stop. Instead, he closed the distance, his hand reaching out to gently grip her chin, tilting her face toward him. His touch was firm yet unbearably tender, forcing her to meet his piercing gaze.

“Good morning, Angel,” he murmured, his voice a velvet caress against her frayed nerves. His smirk widened, a wicked glint in his eyes as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against her flushed skin. “How was your night?”

Sky’s lips parted, but no words came. She was utterly lost in the way he looked at her—like she was the most captivating thing in the world, his dark eyes brimming with amusement and something far more dangerous.

“Xavier, stop,” she whispered weakly, her resolve crumbling as his thumb brushed against her jawline. Her body leaned into his touch, betraying her words.

“Stop?” he echoed, his smirk deepening. “After the way you moaned for me last night? After the way your body begged for me?” He stepped even closer, the heat radiating from his body making her shiver despite herself. “Don’t lie to me, Sky. I can see it in your eyes. You want me.”

Her breath hitched, and she couldn’t tear her gaze away from him. His presence was magnetic, overwhelming, and utterly irresistible. She hated how easily he unraveled her, how he made her forget everything—her flight, her plans, her self-control.

“Xavier…” She tried again, but it was futile. His lips curved into a satisfied grin, his confidence unwavering as he leaned down, his mouth brushing against her ear.

“Say it, Angel,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with sinful promise. “Admit it. You don’t want to leave.”

Her knees buckled, and she clutched the edge of the dresser for support, her body trembling under the weight of his dominance. She hated how true his words felt. How could she leave now, with the way he made her feel—like she was the center of his universe?

But Sky wasn’t ready to surrender completely. Not yet.

“I have a flight to catch,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. It lacked conviction, and Xavier’s smirk only grew as he leaned back, his gaze sweeping over her like a predator sizing up his prey.

“Is that so?” he drawled, his tone mocking yet dangerously seductive. “Well, Angel, good luck getting on that flight when your legs are still trembling from last night.”

Her cheeks flushed deeper, and she turned her face away, biting down on her lip to stifle a response. He was impossible, infuriating, and utterly addictive.

And as much as she hated to admit it, Xavier was right. She didn’t want to leave.

"Xavier, I know what you're trying to do. It won't work on me," Skye said, her voice carrying a mix of defiance and false confidence. She turned away quickly, trying to hide the flush rising on her cheeks, but her body betrayed her.

Every nerve tingled under his gaze, her skin heating from the way his eyes roamed over her. She forced herself to keep moving, gathering her clothes in a feeble attempt to escape the tension suffocating the room.

But Xavier wasn’t one to let things go so easily.

"You don’t have time for this, huh?" he drawled, his voice dripping with mockery as he took a step closer. His damp hair glistened under the morning light, droplets sliding down his chiseled chest, past the ridges of his abs. "Is that what you’re telling yourself, Angel? Because I don’t think your body agrees."

Skye froze for a moment, her hand trembling as she reached for her bra. She had to stay composed.

She needed to get out of here before she fell back into the addictive pull of his dominance. “I need to go,” she muttered, clutching her clothes against her chest. “Thank you for the sex. It was... amazing.”

The words sounded hollow, even to her, and Xavier’s eyes darkened immediately.

"Thank you?" His tone shifted, low and dangerous as he closed the distance between them. "You don’t fucking thank me, Angel."

Before she could react, his large hand shot out, gripping her chin firmly. His fingers pressed into her skin, demanding her full attention. "You never thank me for what I do to you. Do you understand?" His voice was sharp, each word slicing through her fragile resolve.

Skye winced slightly, the pressure making her pulse race. She felt his raw intensity, the dominance that both terrified and thrilled her. "Y-Yes, Daddy. I understand. I’m sorry," she whimpered, her voice barely above a whisper.

A slow, satisfied smirk spread across Xavier’s face. "Good girl," he murmured, his tone a mix of approval and desire. His thumb brushed over her bottom lip, sending a shiver down her spine. "Now, what I want you to do..." His voice dropped even lower, almost a growl, "...is get on your fucking knees and suck this cock."