Rescued by the billionaire

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: Calm

She stood there, draped in a red silk robe that was impossibly short, the hem barely brushing the tops of her beautiful legs—legs I’d admired from a distance all night but had never expected to see so close, so vulnerable. The fabric clung to her curves, soft and shimmering under the warm glow of the bedside lamp.

She took a hesitant step forward, her eyes searching mine as if looking for an answer I wasn’t ready to give.

“I can’t sleep,” she said quietly, voice trembling just enough to betray her calm exterior. “I’m afraid I’ll have another nightmare.”

Her gaze dropped for a moment, then met mine again, a vulnerability there that caught me off guard.

“Could I… sleep with you tonight?”

The question hung in the air between us, heavier than anything I’d heard all evening.

I didn’t know what to say.

I wanted to say no—because this was complicated, messy, uncharted territory.

But before my brain could catch up, my mouth had already betrayed me.

“Sure,” I said.

She nodded, a soft, grateful smile flickering across her lips. Then, with deliberate slowness, she slipped the robe off her shoulders. The fabric fell to the floor with a whisper, pooling around her bare feet.

God.

I wasn’t ready for what lay beneath.

My breath hitched.

The sight in front of me made my skin tingle, my heart race, and something deep inside me stir awake—the undeniable, fierce pull of desire I’d been trying to deny all night.

I was frozen, unable to speak or move, as she crawled onto the bed beside me with a quiet grace.

Then, her voice—soft, almost a whisper—broke the silence.

“Aaron… could you turn off the light?”

I nodded wordlessly and reached over, flicking the switch.

Darkness wrapped around us, but the tension in the air remained electric—thick and full of promises.

And there I was, tossing and turning, desperate for sleep but failing miserably. The quiet of the room pressed in on me, heavy and suffocating. I stared at the ceiling, willing my mind to slow down, to stop replaying every moment, every look, every touch from earlier. But the thoughts kept circling, relentless.

I glanced over at the clock on the nightstand—12:00 AM. The digits glowed softly in the darkness, steady and unchanging.

It felt like hours had passed already, though my body still felt wound tight, restless. I closed my eyes again, hoping to find the sweet release of sleep, but the minutes dragged on, each one longer than the last.

After what felt like an eternity, I couldn’t resist checking the clock again.

To my surprise, only five minutes had actually passed.

A wry, frustrated sigh escaped me. Time was playing tricks.

I turned my head slightly and looked over at her.

She seemed so peaceful—fast asleep, her breathing slow and even, completely unaware of the storm raging inside me.

The soft rise and fall of her chest was hypnotic, almost cruel in its tranquility.

I envied her calm.

"Aaron," her voice whispered, soft and urgent, cutting through the quiet like a gentle command. "Kiss me, Aaron." Without hesitation, I leaned in, closing the small distance between us. The kiss was slow and deep, a perfect collision of longing and tenderness that seemed to stretch on for hours. Time melted away as our lips moved in sync, every second pulling us closer, until nothing else existed but the taste of her and the warmth of

that moment, we continue kissing and kissing then my mouth was on her breast sucking and nibbling with her moaning my name driving me crazy.