The Woman in His Penthouse
1365 Words
Kael Draven had just finished dealing with the last of the foreign investors who wouldn't stop trying to get his attention all night. He slipped away from the gala quietly, he doesn't want to have any talks with people again. His assistant, Fredrick Pearce, walked beside him, both of them heading straight for the executive elevator that led to his private penthouse.
Kael reached out to unlock the door with the keypad when the elevator behind them chimed. Both men froze.
"That's not possible," Fredrick said, already reaching for his radio. "Nobody's cleared to come up here, sir."
The doors slid open, and Elyra staggered out, barely aware of her own body.
Fuck, I'm drugged, she thought, the heat inside her chest impossible to ignore now.
She blinked up and saw Kael Draven standing right in front of her, along with another man, both of them staring like she had dropped out of the sky. s**t, what did I just get myself into.
Kael's jaw tightened as he looked her over. "Who authorized someone onto my floor?" His voice was flat, controlled, the kind of calm that made people more nervous than shouting would have.
"I don't know, sir, I'll find out right now." Fredrick was already pulling out his phone to call security as he stepped closer to her. "Ma'am, you need to leave, this floor is restricted."
Elyra looked at him, but his words slid past her like static. She looked past him instead, straight at Kael.
God, he's hot, she thought, her mind clouding over completely. I think I need a taste of him before I go.
Before either man could react, she pushed herself off the floor and threw her arms around Kael's neck, pulling herself up to reach his mouth.
Kael gripped her arms and stepped back fast, putting space between them. "What do you think you're doing?" His voice was sharp, but the second his hands touched her skin, he felt how hot she was. Too hot. That's not normal, he thought. She's been drugged.
Security showed up seconds later and grabbed her arms to pull her off him. Elyra thrashed against them. "Get off me! Don't touch me, you fools!"
Kael let out a short laugh at the sight of her fighting like a wildcat while barely able to stand straight. Fredrick turned to stare at him, stunned. He had never once heard his boss laugh like that.
"Let her go, I'll handle it." Kael waved the security team back before turning to Fredrick. "You're done for tonight. Go home."
Fredrick opened his mouth like he wanted to argue, then thought better of it. "Yes sir." He left without another word.
Kael crouched down in front of Elyra, who was now sitting on the floor, her face flushed deep red. "Do you even know where you are right now?"
"Mmm." She smiled at him, her eyes fixed on his mouth like nothing else existed in the world.
"Hey. Look at me." He tilted her chin up. "What's your name?"
She didn't answer. She leaned forward instead and kissed him.
Kael went rigid and pulled back immediately, holding her at arm's length. "No. Whatever you think this is, it's not happening."
"Please," she whispered, swaying toward him again.
"I said no." He kept his grip firm, jaw clenched, forcing himself to hold the line even as her hands kept finding their way back to his chest.
She tried again, pressing closer, and this time he didn't move away fast enough.
Her lips brushed his, and for one weak second he let it happen before catching himself and breaking away again, breathing hard. "Enough."
But she wouldn't stop, and somewhere between the fourth time she reached for him and the way she whispered his name like she already knew it, something in him cracked.
He kissed her back.
Slow at first, then not slow at all.
"This is a mistake," he muttered against her mouth, even as his hands slid to her waist.
"Then let's make it," she whispered back.
He scooped her into his arms and carried her toward the penthouse doors, already reaching for his phone.
What neither of them noticed was Simon, one of the night security guards stationed at the private hallway camera feed, sitting frozen in front of his monitor. He had worked at Imperial Crest for almost six years. Never, not once, had he seen another person step onto Mr. Draven's private floor.
Yet tonight, a young woman had not only reached the penthouse, she was now being carried inside it.
Simon slowly pulled out his phone, his finger hovering over the screen for a moment before he snapped a clear photograph of the live feed. The image showed Kael carrying Elyra through the penthouse doors.
A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Someone will pay a fortune for this."
Inside, Kael laid Elyra down on the sofa gently, then reached for his phone.
"Lucien, pick up." The call rang once, twice, then went to voicemail.
"Damn it." He dialed again. Still nothing.
Elyra stirred beside him, her eyes barely open. "Please," she whispered weakly.
Kael closed his eyes for a second, trying to think straight, but her hand had already found the front of his shirt, and whatever control he had left was slipping fast.
"You don't know what you're asking for," he said, voice low.
"I know exactly what I'm asking for." Her fingers curled into the fabric, pulling him down toward her.
He gave in. His mouth found hers again, slower this time, deliberate, and her hands slid up into his hair like she'd been waiting all night to do it. When his hands finally settled on her waist, warm skin under his palms, he felt her breath hitch against his lips.
"Kael," she whispered, and something about the way she said it undid the last of his resistance completely.
He hesitated for the briefest moment, searching her face as though hoping to find a reason to stop. But all he found was certainty.
She reached for him again, and whatever resolve he had left quietly disappeared.
The last thing either of them remembered clearly was the sound of the door lock clicking shut.
---
The following morning, warm sunlight streamed through the floor to ceiling windows, spilling across a room Elyra had never seen before in her life.
A dull ache pulsed through her head. She frowned and slowly opened her eyes, blinking against the light.
The first thing she noticed was the chandelier hanging above her, crystal pieces catching the morning sun and scattering little rainbows across the ceiling. Then the room itself came into focus, thick curtains pooling on marble floors, a soft cream colored bedspread underneath her that felt nothing like the scratchy sheets back home, furniture so polished it looked like nobody had ever actually touched it.
This isn't my room, she thought, her heart starting to pound. This isn't even close to my room.
She sat up slowly, the blanket sliding off her shoulder, and that was when she saw it. Her dress from last night, crumpled on the floor near the foot of the bed. One of her silver heels kicked halfway across the room. A man's black tie draped over the back of a chair.
"Oh my God." Her voice came out shaky. She scrambled to pull the blanket tighter around herself, her mind racing back through the night before, the gala, the dizziness, the elevator, and then nothing, just blank space where her memory should have been.
"What happened last night," she whispered, panic climbing up her throat. "What did I do."
She looked around the room again, more frantic this time, and let out a small cry when she spotted a second wine glass sitting on the nightstand, lipstick still smudged along the rim.
"Oh no. No, no, no." She pressed a hand to her mouth.
Across the room, the bathroom door swung open. A tall figure stepped out, a white towel wrapped low around his waist, water still clinging to his skin like he'd just stepped out of the shower.
Their eyes met.
Neither of them spoke.
- Writer
