The Billionaire’s Obsession: Craving Her

"Mr. Lloyd, no matter what, you have to give me this honor and drink a toast with me tonight. Otherwise, I might just have to stick by your side all evening." "Oh? Then I really have to think carefully about whether to accept this drink or not. Having the number one beauty of New Belmont, Miss Serena Vaughn, clinging to me—now that’s something most men would dream of, hahaha." "Mr. Lloyd, you're teasing me again. Whatever I have today, it's all thanks to the generosity of distinguished gentlemen like yourself." Under the glimmering ocean night, the lavish yacht party was in full swing—glowing lights, endless toasts, and a crowd where every man and woman exuded wealth and influence. Serena held a glass of wine, gracefully maneuvering through the social game with a potential new client while subtly dodging an opportunistic hand attempting to grope her. Mr. Lloyd kept calling her a beauty, but Serena knew all too well that in their eyes, a woman like her was, at best, a "public relations expert" and, at worst, just another high-end escort. Three years in the industry—she had wined, dined, and entertained, but there was one line she had only ever crossed for a single man. Suddenly, a small commotion broke out in the distance. Serena instinctively turned to look, catching sight of a tall, broad-shouldered figure surrounded by an entourage, making their way to the top deck of the yacht. "Who’s that? Quite the grand entrance," Mr. Lloyd narrowed his eyes. Someone beside him answered, "You don’t know? That’s someone from the Lancaster Family." "The Lancaster Family?" Mr. Lloyd’s expression shifted several times, his gaze locking onto that figure. Lowering his voice, he muttered, "The Lancaster Family? Adrian? Why is he here? He never attends these kinds of events." "Who knows? Maybe there’s something in the auction that caught his eye." "If Adrian Lancaster wants something, people would be lining up to hand it to him. Why would he need to come in person?" "Good point. Then why is he here?" "Whatever the reason, we should go say hello. If he remembers us, that’s worth more than any deal we could close tonight." So, it really is him. Serena listened to the murmurs around her, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. Slowly, she brought her wine glass to her mouth and, as fate would have it, her gaze met his—across a distance of dozens of meters, through the sea of people. Those deep, obsidian eyes… She admitted that every time their eyes met unexpectedly, she would find herself caught off guard, momentarily breathless. But only for a moment. Where no one else could see, she playfully winked at him. She was rewarded with the sight of his expression darkening instantly. Satisfied, Serena placed her empty wine glass down and slipped away into the dance floor. She was here tonight to expand her connections, gracefully gliding between the city's elite, sharing a dance with each, memorizing their numbers for future opportunities. During an intermission, she stepped away to the restroom. Just as she was about to return to the ballroom, the door beside her suddenly swung open. A strong hand reached out, grabbed her wrist with precision, and yanked her into the darkness. The next second, her lips were seized in a rough, unrelenting kiss. Serena’s mind went blank for a split second, instinctively resisting. But then, as the familiar scent of tobacco reached her nose, she chuckled internally. Instead of pushing him away, her hands slid up to wrap around his neck, tilting her head back to let him deepen the kiss. Unlike before, this time, his kiss was aggressive. His teeth bit down on her lips, forcing her mouth open for him. His tongue invaded, dominating every inch, licking, claiming, teasing—only to entwine with hers, demanding a response. Then, without mercy, he thrust deeper into her throat in a way that was almost obscene. Serena tried to match his pace, but he was too skilled, shifting rhythms before she could catch up. Her tongue ached from his relentless entanglement. She frowned slightly, attempting to push him away, but instead, he trapped her head in place, leaving her no room to escape. A hand slid up the slit of her dress, shamelessly caressing her thigh. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, her lips were freed. Breathing heavily, Serena smirked. "...Are you really planning to do me here?" "What are you doing here?" The storage room was dim, without a single light. In the darkness, Adrian’s expression remained unreadable, but his voice carried an unmistakable detachment—an irony, considering his hand was still roaming freely along her leg. Serena held onto his neck, her breath warm against his skin, her voice sultry and teasing. "You haven’t come to see me for a month. I had to find a way to survive on my own." Adrian raised a brow. "Did I not give you enough money?" From the shore, a searchlight briefly illuminated the room, pausing on him for a long moment—he was the only source of brilliance in the dim space. "In New Belmont, the South belongs to the Lancasters, the North to the Remingtons. And among them all, only one man stands above the rest—Adrian Lancaster." His suit was impeccable, not a single crease in sight. The dark blue fabric was woven with subtle patterns, understated yet extravagant. A pristine white dress shirt, every button fastened to perfection. He exuded an aura of restraint and control, a man so untouchable that his very presence was intoxicating. A month had passed, and he remained unchanged—his chiseled features just as striking, his black eyes now tinged with the soft glow of amber light. For a fleeting second, it almost created an illusion of warmth. But beneath that? The same unreachable coldness. "Money is, of course, not an issue…" Everyone knew that Adrian Lancaster was generous to his women. Every month, a seven-figure allowance appeared in her account, without fail. Even last month, though he hadn’t come to see her, the black card was still waiting on her nightstand. Serena traced a circle on his chest, her fingers slowly undoing the buttons of his shirt. Her lips brushed his ear as she whispered, "It’s not the money I’m lacking." Beyond the closed doors, the grand party continued. Laughter, music, the clinking of glasses—floating across the sea, blending into the night. --- Serena woke up in Adrian’s bed. The curtains were half-open, allowing the morning light to cast a golden glow across the luxurious suite. Adrian emerged from the bathroom, his wet, jet-black hair dripping water onto his sculpted chest. His upper body glistened under the light, a towel casually wrapped around his waist. He barely glanced at her, his expression unreadable, detached. Serena’s face felt hot. She averted her gaze, a rebellious thought crossing her mind—A man like this, no matter where he went, would be a top-tier prize. Even without his Lancaster name, he’d have rich women fighting over him, ensuring he’d never have to worry about money in his life… But unfortunately for them, Adrian Lancaster wasn’t the type to be kept. He was the one who kept others. Like her. Yes, Serena Vaughn was Adrian Lancaster’s mistress. A secret, unseen, and purely physical arrangement. Adrian untied his towel without a second thought, letting it drop to the floor. He reached into his wardrobe, taking out a shirt. Serena eagerly stepped forward to help him button it. He allowed her to do so, watching her with an unreadable gaze. As she fastened the final button, Adrian suddenly asked— "Serena, how long have we been doing this?"