Page 13 of The Plus One Contract

He chuckled, biting softly at the curve of my neck. “Oh, sweetheart, I've barely started.”

The sound that left my mouth was pathetic, needy, and entirely shameless.

He flipped me onto my stomach, spreading my thighs, sinking into me with a slow, deliberate rhythm that felt both punishing and worshipful. He leaned forward, mouth hot against my ear, whispering filthy promises, words that left me dizzy.

I gripped the sheets, barely hanging on as he dragged me under again.

My last coherent thought?

I might actually die here.

By the time Nathan finished proving whatever point he’d set out to make, I'd lost count, lost my dignity, and possibly lost feeling in my legs.

Now, here I am, lying motionless beside him, quietly panicking as reality sinks back in.

This was supposed to be easy. Reckless but simple. Something to take my mind off Daniel, my family, and the slow-motion train wreck of the wedding looming ahead.

I turn my head just enough to see the culprit sleeping peacefully beside me, completely unbothered, looking relaxed.

As if he hadn’t just spent the last several hours blowing my back out in ways that should honestly require a safety briefing. As if he didn’t have me clutching at the headboard, begging for things I would never admit to in daylight.

I need to leave. Now. Before he wakes up, and the confident woman he brought home transforms back into the nervous mess she truly is.

I glance at the clock.

4:07 AM.

Perfect. He won't wake up anytime soon. Right?

I move carefully, sliding off the mattress, cringing when every muscle in my body protests. My thighs burn in ways I didn’t think physically possible, and I can practically hear Harper laughing at me already.

My dress is on the floor at the foot of the bed, crumpled and abandoned. My heels lie scattered on either side of the room. My bra is nowhere in sight, a casualty I'm willing to sacrifice.

I inch toward the end of the bed, praying my shaking knees don't betray me. I bend, fingertips grazing satin fabric when Nathan shifts in his sleep, exhaling softly.

I freeze, heart hammering in my chest. He murmurs something unintelligible but settles again.

I release a long breath before sliding the dress over my head.

He rolls over, causing the sheets to slide down his torso, and my mouth dries. The view is entirely unfair, a sculpted chest tapering into an equally devastating set of abs. For half a second, I consider crawling back in bed, but common sense intervenes just in time.

This isn’t the moment to get sentimental. This is the moment to run for my life.

I grab my heels and pad out of the bedroom, feeling around the unfamiliar space.

My stomach sinks.

Where the fuck is the door?

I turn in a slow circle, trying to retrace our steps from last night. The problem is I was a little preoccupied when we walked in.

I grit my teeth, resisting the urge to panic.

This is fine. Totally fine.

I’ll just follow my instincts.

The apartment is massive. Gorgeous hardwood floors, plush carpets, and enough rooms and corridors to confuse me. I pass a pristine kitchen that looks as if no one has ever cooked in it, a massive dining table that appears untouched, and a home office that exudes quiet wealth. Everything is beautiful and intimidating, and although I don’t know much about him, it still feels like him.

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