Night to Forget

- Harper - I woke up with a pounding head, the Sahara desert in my throat, and photophobia. I hissed as the bright, sharp, and warm sunlight pierced my skull through my closed eyelids, trying to blow my head up from the inside. Every movement added to my suffering, not to mention the repulsive smell coming straight from my mouth. What the hell was I drinking last night? I thought as I tried to wet my chapped lips with my equally dried tongue, damn hangover. I groaned as I rolled in bed, turning my back to the light. As much as my head thanked me for the rescue, my v****a screamed at me to stop abusing her. I hissed again as my thighs rubbed together, irritating my sore folds. I scrunched my face and slipped my hand between my legs, discovering my very naked, very sticky, and very worn-out p***y. Despite the hammer drilling into my skull, the vile taste of thousands of cocktails, and soreness in all my muscles, I ripped off the sheets from my body and looked down through the blurry and slightly spinning vision. "What the f**k?" I rasped hoarsely, assessing my body covered with dark red marks. The cogs in my brain slowly started working as I surveyed the room I woke up in. The large bed with high-end, lush linens, deluxe pillows, and a mattress with memory foam indicated that the room was at least at the same level as mine. The exquisite design and decorations evoked the comfort of home, yet the interior made you step into the charm of the past but with modern conveniences. With an increased heartbeat, I raised myself on my elbows, looked at the floor, searched for my dress, and gasped as I found it almost ripped to shreds beside my open clutch and golden sandals. But what made the bile rise in my throat was my emergency wad of condoms, unpacked, lying on the very eye-catching underwear that I could recognize everywhere. "f**k me," I muttered, closing my eyes and praying it was a bad dream. "I did. And quite a few times, might I add, Vixen." That damn voice answered, completely bursting my bubble of hope. "And as the one whose memories are not tempered with alcohol, I clearly remember you screaming to f**k you as hard as possible, which I delivered, too." He chuckled, coming closer. "And just like the first time, I’ll repeat myself, darling." He loomed over me, bringing his masculine, ambery, aromatic aftershave scent that made my knees weak every time with him. "Stop being stubborn, little vixen, and let me have you. Forever." He pressed his warm lips against mine, making me lose my breath, stop my heartbeat, and gulp in nervousness. That man knew exactly what effect he had on me and perfectly knew that only he could make me a trembling little girl in his arms. One look from him set my body on fire. One touch from him gave me chills. And one night was never enough. He knew I wanted more, that I desired it all. "I can’t," I answered quickly, rolling over from the bed to the other side despite my aching body. I fell on my ass, but I quickly got up, tugging at the sheets to cover myself. I staggered slightly, still feeling the effects of drinking too much alcohol, but I quickly recovered, looking at the situation in front of me. And what an extraordinary situation it was. I bit my lip, almost moaning with delight at the beautiful sight of a Greek God. The towel that barely hung on the hips, containing the package, was tied so carelessly that a gust of wind could untie it. Sun-kissed skin, covered with drops of a warm shower, floated under the influence of muscle movement. Muscles which were also covered with countless dark red spots from the suction of the lips. My lips. I licked my chapped lips and opened them, breathing faster and faster, looking higher and higher, where a beautifully carved chest decorated with a tuft of hair vibrated with the owner's undisguised amused chuckle. My v****a pulsed, secreting juices that covered my inner thighs. My hips fell into a rhythm independently and moved as if pushed by magic, dancing a dance of seduction. My whole body shuddered with excitement, and my n*****s hardened as they rubbed against the silk material of the sheets. "You can't hide it, Harper. You belong to me, no matter how much you resist it. Your body is itching for me to caress it." He licked his lips after his statement. I couldn't stand it and moaned, excited by the tone of his voice and the way he was able to control my body with it. I was ready to loosen the grip on the fabric and let it fall to the ground, exposing my eager body, enchanted by his voice. "Can't," I mumbled, clinging to the last clear-headed cell in my messy brain. My eyes wandered higher, feeding my desires, enjoying the sight of a man who made my body fall to pieces at every touch. His short facial hair gave him a s*x appeal. His voluptuous lips turned into a mischievous smile at my excitement, making him look like a sin, and when I finally looked into his eyes, I saw victory and satisfaction, perfectly combined with the primitive desire that gave him a wild look. Gray, hunting eyes framed with long, thick eyelashes looked at me as if they chose me to be devoured. And they definitely did. This gaze haunts my dreams at night, and I recreate it whenever I touch myself for a double pleasure. I long to feel it on me every time of the day. Eyes so piercing that every hair stands on end. His gaze. His eyes. Carter Remington’s eyes. I've met more than one handsome man, more than one playboy, and more than one charming business executive. But none of them had these three things at once and evoked such strong emotions in me. Emotions that clouded my common sense every time, challenging me to cope even with the most minor task. I clenched my fists around the sheets and moved slightly away from the bed, never taking my eyes off Carter. f**k, I did it again. I cursed inwardly, trying to save myself from the devil’s clutches. I glanced at the floor from the corner of my eye and noticed his shirt nearby, already forming an escape plan in my head. "It won't work. You know that." I tried to convince him, slowly getting closer to the set goal. "I won't deny it because you know s*x like no one else. But it can't happen again." I reminded him, standing beside his shirt and my clutch. "So let's do ourselves a favor and forget about this night." I gulped, "Or better yet, forget about us," I suggested, crouching down to gather the needed things. Carter watched my every move without comment. He knew what I was up to, yet he allowed me to do my act. He smirked and crossed his arms over his chest, making his unearthly physics even more prominent. He pushed his hip to the left, causing the wobbly towel to loosen and slide open slightly, revealing the base of his d**k. I swallowed again and, without breaking our eye contact, gathered the things I needed before I swiftly threw the sheets over the bed, put on his oversized, white shirt that still smelled of him, and ran out of the bedroom with my clutch in my hand, abandoning my sandals and dress. I struggled with the buttons, trying to disguise myself as much as possible. "Forget about that night. Forget about me." I screamed as I grabbed the handle, pulled open the door, and left his room without a second thought, running towards the stairs. I didn't care what time it was. I didn't know what floor I was on, but I didn't have time to stop and check. I made a mistake and now had to escape it quickly, possibly unnoticed. Fortunately, my room was only two floors below, and I did not encounter anyone in the corridor or on the escape stairs who could see me in this compromising situation. I was trying to get the key card out of my small clutch, narrowly avoiding spilling all its contents, when I heard a door slowly opening in the distance. I glanced to my left in panic and listened to the voice of a couple wondering what to choose for breakfast. "f**k. Harper, move your ass." I hurried myself in panic, recognizing them as the bride's brother and his wife. Damn it. That is the last thing I need, for Lex to see me like this. I thought, begging, praying to each of the Gods for mercy and to let me into the room quickly. I heard the familiar click, and the green light on the reader came on when my sleepy, equally hungover second assistant, George, opened the door on the other side. "Do you know what time it is?" He asked, barely opening his eyes. Without waiting long, I pushed the door open, narrowly missing knocking him over as I rushed into the room, slammed the door behind me, and leaned against it, panting as if I had run a marathon. "What the hell are you wearing?" George rubbed his eyes and stared in surprise at my barely two-buttoned shirt, exposing my bare chest. "I f****d up. I totally and irrevocably f****d up." I confessed, covering my mouth with a shaky hand. George raised his eyebrows, trying to understand my words. He looked me over from head to toe and back before moving closer and smelling my shirt. "Oh fuck." He pulled away immediately, placing his manicured hands on his mouth shaped like a duck's mouth. "Oops," he muttered in shock at my biggest faux pas. I hit my head with the clutch and slapped my forehead several times before exhaling deeply in defeat. I looked at George with teary eyes before dropping the clutch to the floor, spilling all the content. "Yeah. " I nodded, "Oops, I did it again," I admitted, hanging my head low and passing George to wash away the sin of adultery. "Oops. I slept with Carter Remington again. I slept with a married man." I muttered as I opened the bathroom door, finally letting the shame wash over me.