Chapter 2 Chapter 002

Vamica's POV

The transfer hit my phone like a slap—$5,000, not a tip, not kindness, but payment, for me. My throat tightened as my thumb shook and pushed it through to the hospital, Grandma’s name flashing back on the confirmation screen like salvation, proof the surgery was covered.

Relief should’ve swallowed me whole, but it didn’t; instead, shame crawled hot and sticky up my spine, clinging like sweat.

Five thousand was too much for a massage, and I wasn’t naïve enough to pretend otherwise, but I couldn’t let myself care. He’d already paid, Grandma’s life was bought back, and whatever he wanted from me now, I was ready to take it—because I wasn’t here for a massage, and I wasn’t here by mistake. I had just been bought.

And when I looked up, he was watching me — that kind of stare that pins you down, strips you bare, even with a mask covering half your face.

His robe slid off his shoulders like it had never mattered, pooling at his feet.

And fuck. He wasn’t just beautiful. He was indecent. Bronze skin stretched tight over carved muscle, abs cut sharp enough to make my breath stall. His pants clung low, the sharp lines of his body pointing my gaze right where it had no business going. My pulse kicked against my ribs, reckless and dirty.

“Just a massage,” I whispered to myself. “Take the money. Do the job. Leave.”

I poured the oil into my palms, rubbing them together. The lavender scent rose thick around me, my hands trembling as I lowered them to his chest.

The second my skin touched his, I was gone.

Hot. Solid. Harder than any body I’d ever touched, his chest rose under my palms like he was daring me to explore. I moved in slow, careful circles, the way Lila had taught me — but this wasn’t practice. This was him. His heat sank into me until my thighs pressed tight together, trying to smother the ache blooming there.

I slid across his shoulders, kneading. His breath shifted, subtle, but enough to make me shiver. I dragged my hands lower, smoothing oil down the ridges of his stomach, every glide leaving my pulse more frantic. The silk clung to me, my nipples pebbled hard against the fabric, and shame hit just as hard as the thrill did.

That’s when his hand caught mine.

One strong grip around my wrist, holding me still like I belonged there.

My breath snagged. His eyes locked onto mine — molten, hungry, dangerous. For a beat the world stopped, and then his other hand slid up to the back of my neck.

He pulled me down.

The kiss hit me like fire—no softness, no coaxing, just raw possession, his mouth taking mine like it already belonged to him.

His tongue thrust into my mouth like it had every right, like he owned the air in my lungs. My knees buckled, the oil bottle slipping from my hand and crashing to the floor, forgotten the second his mouth devoured mine.

I tried to pull back for breath, but his palm cupped my jaw, holding me exactly where he wanted me. My lips parted on instinct, shameful and hungry, letting him deeper. I should’ve said no. Instead, I kissed him back, messy and desperate, my body betraying everything I swore I wasn’t.

In one terrifyingly easy motion, he rolled me beneath him. His weight pinned me into the sheets that smelled faintly of cedar and smoke. His mouth left mine just long enough to trail hot, open kisses down my throat, sucking hard enough to make me whimper.

“This isn’t me,” I whispered, my voice shaking as my back arched helplessly into him. “I shouldn’t…”

His tongue flicked against my collarbone, silencing me. My body melted, the shame burning hotter with every moan that broke out of me.

The thin strap of the silk dress slipped aside, and suddenly his mouth was on my breast. His tongue swirled, teeth grazing, sucking until sparks lit up behind my eyelids. I bit my lip to hold back the sounds, but he caught my hand, yanked it away, and pinned it above my head.

“Let me hear you,” he rasped against my skin, his voice dark velvet.

And God help me, I did.

My moans filled the room, raw and needy, echoing against the walls while he sucked and licked like I was his to ruin. His hand slid lower, stroking down my waist, between my thighs, pressing against the silk until I writhed under him.

“Relax,” he growled, the sound low and rough. “If you don’t want this, I’ll stop. But fuck… I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you.”

Shame blurred my vision, but my body didn’t listen. My thighs parted. My breath hitched. I was drowning in the ache, and his fingers were already there, slick heat betraying me.

His mouth left my breast, sliding down, down, until his head dipped between my legs.

The first lick of his tongue against my clit shattered me. My hips jerked, a cry tore from my throat, and his hands pinned me wide open while his tongue circled, licked, teased. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. The only thing that existed was his mouth wrecking me, dragging sounds out of me I’d never made in my life.

Then a finger slid inside. Tight. Stretching me in ways I wasn’t ready for. I gasped, bucked, and he groaned into me, the vibration setting my nerves on fire.

“So fucking tight,” he growled against me. “Bunny, you’ll ruin me.”

“Bunny?” The word made no sense, not my name, but hearing it in his mouth made me tremble harder.

He slid in a second finger. My cry cracked the air. His tongue pressed harder, swirling over my clit while he stretched me mercilessly. The orgasm ripped through me violent and raw, my body jerking as moans poured out shameless and broken.

I was gone. Completely gone.

He rose, tugging his pants down, and my breath seized.

His cock was massive. Thick. Veins ridging the length as he stroked himself slow, deliberate, eyes locked on mine.

He pressed the head to my lips.

“Open.”

The command slid into me like silk and steel all at once. My mouth parted before I could stop it, and then he was inside — hot, heavy, stretching me until my jaw ached. I gagged, tears springing instantly, but the sound he made was guttural, hungry, vibrating through my bones.

His hand tangled in my hair, guiding me deeper. His other hand rolled my nipple between his fingers, pulling another whimper from me. My throat worked around him, choking and sloppy, but my body was alive everywhere, too alive.

Pinned under his stare, tears wetting my cheeks, his cock filling my mouth, I should’ve felt degraded. Instead, I burned.

My heart, fragile and unsteady everywhere else, beat strong and steady under his control.

And just when I thought I’d lost myself completely, he shifted, tugging my hips like he was about to flip me over and take what I wasn’t ready to give.

Reality slammed back in, cold and brutal.

I yanked away, choking, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “No… I can’t,” I rasped, shame flooding me as I scrambled for the dress. My chest thundered too hard, warning me of the line I’d nearly crossed.

He didn’t move.

Didn’t chase, didn’t curse, didn’t force. He just sat there, cock still hard in his hand, eyes glowing with something I couldn’t name, watching me like he already knew I’d be back.