BEHIND HER MASK

HE IS GOING TO CLAIMED HER

~ALEXANDER~

“Moonpie, I’m going to claim every inch of you. I won’t stop until you’re begging for more,” he vowed.

He downed the last of his drink, sank deep into the couch, and let out a low, tired growl.

His thoughts slipped back to her—the feel of her hands on him, the warmth of her body pressed close, the trail of his lips across her shoulder, the sound of her soft moans.

It wasn’t helping. She had wrecked him beyond repair. Heat burned through him, restless and consuming, like an animal in rut. He needed release.

“Damn you, Ramona,” he muttered.

Rising, he headed for the bar. His gaze swept the room until it landed on her—the bold woman from earlier. She sat among her friends, eyes lighting up the second they met his. She bit down on her straw, slow and suggestive, never breaking their stare.

She excused herself from her friends, her hips swaying as she made her way toward him.

“So, you finally thought it over,” she teased, her smile laced with seduction, fully aware of the game she was playing.

“Guess one or two games wouldn’t hurt,” he murmured, stepping closer. Leaning in, his lips brushed near her ear as he whispered, “How about we hang out at my place?”

“Sure, why not, handsome?” she purred, biting her thumb while her eyes roamed over him with hungry intent.

PENTHOUSE

The elevator doors slid shut, sealing them in. Before the silence could take hold, she pressed herself against Alexander, her lips crashing onto his.

“Mmmm—” he groaned into her mouth, gripping her hips and pulling her tightly against him. “Couldn’t wait for the room?”

“Not a chance,” she breathed, tugging his bottom lip between her teeth before kissing him even harder.

His hand slid up her thigh, bold even in the small space. She let out a breathy laugh, pushing him back against the elevator wall. “You’re trouble.”

“And you like it,” he murmured, his mouth moving down to her neck, biting softly before sucking at the delicate skin. She gasped, nails digging into his shirt.

The elevator dinged. Without breaking contact, he laced his fingers with hers and pulled her out into the hall. Halfway to his room, she yanked him back against the wall, kissing him like she couldn’t get enough.

By the time they stumbled into his room, her gown was already gone, his shirt half unbuttoned. The door slammed shut, and they were on each other again, lips, hands, heat.

He pushed her gently onto the bed, hovering over her, eyes dark. All he could see was Ramona. Her alluring green eyes shine brightly

“I want to take my time with you, Ramona.”

“uh… Ramona. I'm not Ramona…”

Without allowing her to complete her words he roughly jammed his lips unto her. His hands slid beneath her blouse, lifting it inch by inch, revealing smooth skin as she arched into his touch. She tugged at his shirt, impatient, and he laughed against her lips.

Piece by piece, clothes fell away, their laughter mingling with sharp breaths and murmured curses. They explored each other like discovery itself was the thrill—hands tracing, lips tasting, every inch of skin unveiled with hunger and wonder.

When nothing was left between them, she looked up at him, breathless, her smile daring. “So… was the elevator just a warm-up?”

His answering grin was wicked. “Oh, Ramona… we’re only getting started.”

“Huh? Ramona again?”

He drove into her with rough intensity, her moans echoing in the room. His thrusts were desperate, like he was reclaiming something he had lost. He was claiming Ramona.

“Oh my God, Alex—don’t stop,” she gasped, nails biting into his skin as she held onto him tighter.

~MORNING, THE NEXT DAY~

he stepped out of the shower with a towel wrapped around his waist, another rubbing against his damp hair. Pulling the curtain aside, he found the sky still cloaked in darkness. The clock read five minutes past five in the morning.

He moved to the kitchen, brewing himself a cup of coffee to kick off his day. With the mug in hand, he started getting dressed.

He then stood before the mirror, adjusting his tie. That’s when his eyes caught the faint outline of a figure curled up under the blanket.

Damn, he completely forgot she was still there. Last night had been wild—every inch of each other explored—but now it was time for her to leave.

He yanked the blanket off her, and she rolled around before clutching a pillow tight against her.

Clapping his hands, the sound bouncing off the walls, he said, “Sorry to wake you, Sleeping Beauty, but it’s time to go.”

She cracked her eyes open with a yawn, stretching out her body before striking a teasingly sexy pose on the bed.

“Good morning, Alex,” she greeted, flashing him a smile.

Damn. She knew his name. That was a mistake. He hadn’t bothered to remember hers—didn’t care enough to.

“Well, it’s time to leave,” he said, snapping his fingers to rush her along.

“Why? Afraid Ramona might see me?” she teased.

Ramona? How did she know that name?

“What are you talking about?” he asked, impatient for her response.

“You kept calling out her name all night, moaning it… what is she, your fiancee?”

“That’s none of your business. Get dressed and leave,” he snapped, turning back to the mirror with a deep frown.

Fiancee? Impossible. She was nothing but a distraction, a woman trying to unravel him, clouding his thoughts.

“Why don’t we pick up where we left off yesterday, hmm?” she teased, spinning him to face her.

She bit her lip seductively, as though it would sway him, her fingers trailing across his chest as she tried to unbutton his blazer. But he stopped her hand.

“Enough games, kitty. I have a company to run,” he said firmly, pulling away.

He opened the drawer beside him, pulled out two stacks of cash, and handed them over.

“This should be enough for that fancy Hermes bag you’ve been eyeing,” he smirked.

In the end, that’s all they wanted—money and s*x.

“Alright,” she said, taking the cash before slipping back into her clothes.

Nothing surprising. Just as he suspected—she was only here for the money. Disappointing, but expected.

“So, when do I get to see you again?” she asked as they reached the door, with him following lazily behind.

“There won’t be a next time, kitty. I don’t screw the same woman twice,” he replied before slamming the door in her face.

He walked over to his desk, grabbed the intercom, and called security.

“There’s a woman heading down the elevator. Don’t let her back up again,” he instructed flatly.

With that handled, he returned to get ready for work.