Love Under The Sheets

Chapter 5

"Whew! I thought we were in trouble back there. CEO Black is terrifying," Freya exhaled, clutching her chest as they put distance between themselves and the jewelry shop. Her pulse still hadn’t steadied.

"We didn’t do anything wrong," Caren replied with a light chuckle, watching Freya struggle to catch the breath she’d unknowingly held during their hasty retreat.

"I was scared for you," Freya admitted, linking her arm with Caren’s as she mumbled, lips pursed. "I don’t want you tangled in my mess."

Caren playfully pinched her nose. "Don’t worry. As long as you’re safe, trouble will never find me because of you."

Freya’s brows furrowed. "What’s that supposed to mean? You think I’d run?" Her tone was half-teasing, half-wary.

Caren met her gaze, a soft smile playing on her lips, though her eyes remained unreadable. "Never. I’d never doubt you, Miss Freya." A pause. Then, quieter, firmer: "But I hope you realize by now—the safest place for you is Black Diamond Estate."

Freya studied her, searching for answers in the woman’s inscrutable expression. But after a long moment, she sighed in defeat.

"I have nowhere else to go, Caren. For prisoners like my mother and me… what choice do we really have?" Her smile was a fragile, bitter thing, and it made Caren’s chest tighten.

"Master Orion has a reputation, yes," Caren conceded. "But he’s not a monster. Only those who cross him need fear him."

Freya let out a hollow laugh. "My family owes him millions. Even if I sold every share, every property in my name—would it be enough?" She shook her head, then added with wry humor, "Maybe I should throw myself in as part of the payment. Do you think he’d even look my way?"

Caren stared at her for a long moment before a teasing smile curved her lips. "With your beauty, it would be more than enough. You could awaken desire in even the most faithful of saints." She winked.

"Caren!" Freya hastily covered the woman’s mouth, scandalized by the implication of her words.

Undeterred, Caren muffled out, "Master Orion is no saint, so it won’t be that difficult."

"Silly," Freya giggled, playing along—but only for a moment before her expression sobered. "But… if it’s a path to our freedom, I could try." A flicker of confidence surfaced as she spoke, contemplative.

Yes, she had her mother’s beauty, and the refined, striking features of the man who fathered her. But CEO Orion Black’s world was filled with dazzling, desperate beauties vying for his attention. Even as a joke, she was still a nobody in his extravagant, frivolous world.

"Well, if I were to be asked," Caren declared with unwavering confidence, her eyes gleaming with mischief, "you're the only one befitting to be Mrs. Orion Black."

Freya’s breath hitched, her cheeks flushing as she swiftly clamped a hand over Caren’s mouth. "Hush! Are you trying to get us both in trouble?" she hissed, casting a nervous glance around them.

The last thing she needed was for prying ears to overhear such dangerous talk.

Undeterred, Caren pried Freya’s fingers away with a playful smirk. "I only speak the truth. Compared to all those socialites clawing for Master Orion’s attention, you’re the only one worth his time." She punctuated her words with a conspiratorial wink.

Freya exhaled sharply, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. "Don’t be ridiculous. A man like him doesn’t involve himself with someone like me. I’m just a debtor—nothing more."

Caren rolled her eyes. "Master Orion is worth billions. A few million in debt is pocket change to him."

"A debt is still a debt," Freya murmured, her gaze distant. "If not for my mother, I’d sell everything I own to pay it off and leave the city. But losing her birthright would destroy her."

Caren’s expression softened, her tone turning earnest. "It’s your birthright too, Miss Freya. I served your grandfather once—he was a great man. You can’t just surrender what’s rightfully yours."

Freya’s fingers curled into the fabric of her clothes, her resolve hardening. "I know. I may not feel connected to the Winters legacy, but their blood runs through my veins. I won’t let my mother—or my family’s name—be trampled on."

A sly grin crept onto Caren’s face. "Then seduce Master Orion. With him as your shield, no one would dare touch you."

Freya shot her a withering glare. "Orion Black isn’t just some man, Caren. He’s a force of nature. He is a dangerous plight and an impossible feat."

"Oh, please," Caren scoffed, leaning in with a knowing smirk. "I’ve seen the way you look at him when you think no one’s watching."

Freya’s pulse stuttered, but she forced a dry laugh. "And I’ve seen the way every woman looks at him. He’s an unattainable dream—especially for someone like me."

"Dreams come true," Caren sing-songed, bopping Freya’s nose playfully. "Have you seen yourself? Any man would fall to his knees for you. Why do you think Master Orion hid you away in his most private estate?"

Freya’s playful retort died on her lips as Caren’s words sank in. Her brows knitted together. "Wait—what did you just say?"

Caren’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second before she recovered, her voice a touch too sweet. "I said you’re breathtaking. Even a man like Orion Black wouldn’t stand a chance if you tried."

Freya studied her carefully. There was something off—a flicker of panic in Caren’s eyes. But before she could press further, she shook her head, opting to play along. "Do you really think I could seduce him? At least enough to negotiate the interest?" she teased, though the question lingered in her mind like an unsolved riddle.

"That would be a piece of cake," Caren quipped, pressing her thumb and index finger together with a confident smirk.

Freya forced a playful grin, matching her friend’s teasing tone. "Well, then I’d better work hard for that dream," she shot back, even adding a wink for good measure.

But beneath the banter, a quiet unease coiled in her chest.

Caren’s words from earlier slithered through her mind, sharp as a blade—"Why do you think Master Orion hid you away in his most private estate?"

What did it mean?

Freya’s fingers absently brushed her lips, deep in thoughts, recalling the fleeting moments when Orion’s piercing gaze had lingered on her just a heartbeat too long.

Had she imagined it?

No. She clenched her jaw, forcing the thought away. Men like Orion Black don't hide women like her—they discarded them. He had his reasons, and she was just another transaction. A debt to be settled.

And yet…

The question burrowed deeper, relentless. If she was merely collateral, why in the shadows of his most guarded sanctuary, surrounded by luxury and comfort?

She felt a flicker of hope, but she immediately dismissed it. It's quite terrifying.

Orion Black was a dangerous magnet, an inexorable pull she couldn’t resist. From the first moment their eyes had met, he had stirred something in her—something unknown, terrifying yet exhilarating. An irresistible temptation she feared… and craved.

Even that night, the playful exchange with Caren lingered in Freya’s mind, twisting her thoughts into restless knots. Sleep should have come easily—her body ached with exhaustion—but her mind refused to quiet. The phantom image of him haunted her, as elusive as the freedom she dreamed of.

Giving up, she reached for a fresh sketchbook and pencil. If sleep wouldn’t claim her, she would pour her restless energy onto paper. Sketching had always been her escape, the one place where her nerves could unravel into something tangible.

Barefoot and still in her sleepwear, she stepped onto the balcony, the night air cool against her skin. Below, the Olympic-sized pool lay like a sheet of obsidian under the moonlight, undisturbed—until a sudden splash shattered the silence.

Freya froze.

Since her arrival, the pool had been deserted, its pristine waters untouched. But now, ripples cascaded across the surface as a powerful figure cut through the water with effortless precision.

Her breath caught—sharp, involuntary—as the realization struck her like a physical blow.

CEO Orion Black.

The man she had only ever seen draped in impeccably tailored suits, his presence commanding boardrooms with effortless authority, now stood—no, swam—before her, stripped of all but the barest veil of moonlight.

The water parting in silent reverence as he cut through its surface. His broad shoulders rose, glistening under the pale lunar glow, every sinew and ridge of muscle defined as if carved by some divine hand. Droplets cascaded down the hard planes of his back, catching the light like scattered diamonds before dissolving back into the darkness.

He moved with a predator’s grace—fluid, relentless—each stroke sending ripples across the water’s surface, each breath a low, steady rhythm that seemed to sync with the frantic pulse of her own heart.

A voice in her mind, distant but insistent, screamed at her to turn away. This was a line she couldn’t cross.

Yet her body refused to obey.

The night held its breath.

And so did she.

Every movement was hypnotic, the play of muscle beneath wet skin both beautiful and unnerving. The way he owned the water, the space, the very air around him—it was intoxicating.

And then, as if sensing her gaze, he slowed.

Freya’s pulse spiked.

Had he noticed her?

Heart hammering, she pressed herself against the balcony railing, her sketchbook clutched tightly to her chest. A reckless part of her wanted him to turn, to see her watching.

But the other part—the sensible one—whispered that this was dangerous.

If he looked up now, she wasn’t sure she could stop herself from stepping into the light—from letting him see her. The thrill of being caught sent a dangerous rush through her veins, electrifying every nerve.

Her gaze clung to him, tracing the lines of his body as if she could etch him into memory—every dip of muscle, every shift of power beneath his skin.

"Shit."

The word slipped out in a ragged whisper, her throat dry as she swallowed hard.

Then—

Orion Black rose from the water.

Drops cascaded down his chest, catching the light like liquid diamonds as he strode forward, wearing nothing but a pair of black swim briefs that left nothing to the imagination.

Freya’s breath vanished.

He was carved from pure temptation—not an ounce of softness, just raw, unyielding perfection. But it wasn’t just his sculpted torso or the way his thighs flexed with each step that held her captive.

It was the bulge straining against the thin fabric.

The glow of the pool lights illuminated every obscene detail, leaving no doubt about the sheer, impossible size of him.

A demigod carved in mortal flesh. Every line of him was power and predation—a man who could ruin a woman with nothing but a single, devastating thrust.

'Could I even take him? The thought slithered through her mind, unbidden. I’d be split in half—'

Her thoughts shattered mid-breath.

Heat blazed across her cheeks, a wildfire of shame and want. The image burned behind her eyelids—muscle and sweat, the brutal grace of his hips driving into her—seared into her mind, unshakable as a brand.

And the worst part?

Her body thrummed with the need to know. To feel it.

"What the hell am I thinking?!" The gasp tore from her throat, raw and loud.

Horror coiled in her gut as the figure below paused. Slowly, deliberately, he turned.

And looked right at her.

****tbc****