CHAPTER 116: BUSINESS PARTY

Aiden’s POV

The sound of water filled the bathroom, steam curling around us, but all I could focus on was her.

Alexia was wrecked—her body trembling, her breathing uneven as she leaned against the tile. I should’ve stepped back, given her space to recover, but I couldn’t.

My hands were still on her hips, fingers pressing into soft, wet skin. My forehead rested against her shoulder, my own breath coming hard and fast.

I had never lost control like that before.

And yet, even now, I wasn’t satisfied.

I should be.

I should be pulling away, wrapping a towel around her, making some stupid remark to ease the tension, but I couldn’t. My grip tightened, my fingers flexing against her skin, grounding myself in the way she felt against me.

She was too quiet.

I didn’t like it.

I pressed a lingering kiss against her shoulder, then another, my lips trailing along her damp skin. She shivered, her hands bracing against the tile as if she were trying to catch her breath.

I smirked against her skin, satisfied that even now, she was still feeling me.

Slowly, I pulled back, my hands sliding up her sides, tracing the curves I had just claimed. When I turned her to face me, her lips were parted, her eyes still slightly dazed.

Fuck.

I shouldn’t want her again. Not after that. Not when I had just taken her so thoroughly that her legs barely held her up.

But the way she looked at me—flushed, raw, vulnerable yet defiant—I was already ready to pull her back into me.

Instead, I reached up, running my thumb along her swollen lips.

She blinked, her hands coming up to press against my chest as if trying to push me away, but her touch was weak. Hesitant.

Like she didn’t really want distance.

Neither did I.

I leaned in, brushing my lips over hers in something softer than I intended.

Alexia stiffened slightly, but then she melted into it, her fingers curling against my skin. I deepened the kiss, slow but consuming, letting her feel every ounce of possession I wasn’t ready to name.

By the time I pulled away, her breathing had picked up again.

I smirked.

"Still standing?" I murmured, amusement lacing my tone.

Her eyes snapped open, and that defiance I had been waiting for finally returned.

"Shut up," she muttered, shoving at my chest and stepping past me.

I chuckled, watching her grab a towel, wrapping it around herself as she avoided looking at me.

Yeah.

I had ruined her.

And I wasn’t nearly done.

I stepped out of the bathroom, running a hand through my damp hair, my towel hanging low on my hips. The room was dimly lit, and my eyes immediately found her.

Alexia stood by the closet, sifting through dresses, her wet hair cascading down her back, soaking into the thin robe she had wrapped around herself. She looked deep in thought, her lower lip caught between her teeth as she debated between two options.

She hadn’t noticed me yet.

Good.

Because I needed a second to just look at her.

I should’ve been focusing on the business party. On what I’d say, who I’d meet, and the deals I’d have to close tonight.

But all I could think about was her.

If not for the damn party, I’d have her on that bed again, and again, until she was too wrecked to think about anything else but me.

Get her out of your system.

That’s what I had told myself at the start of this. But now, after everything, I knew—that was a lie.

Because no matter how many times I touched her, kissed her, had her beneath me—I couldn’t stop wanting her.

It had started as attraction, undeniable and reckless. But somewhere along the way, it had evolved into something far more dangerous.

Something I didn’t know how to deal with.

I wanted her. Not just like this, in fleeting moments of heat. I wanted all of her. Her laughter, her fire, her stubbornness. I wanted to wake up to her every morning and fall asleep beside her every night.

And that terrified me.

Because I knew—she didn’t feel the same.

I had been the one who set the rules, the one who said no feelings, just physical release. And now, I was the one breaking them.

So I did the only thing I could.

I kept it buried.

Better to have half of her than to lose her completely.

I just hoped—prayed—that one day, she’d come to feel the same way.

Letting out a quiet breath, I stepped toward her. "You’re going to take all night deciding?"

She jumped slightly, turning to face me. Her eyes flicked over my bare chest before snapping up to my face, her expression guarded. "It’s your fault," she muttered, "for springing this trip on me. I didn’t have time to plan."

I smirked. "William packed for you. Just wear whatever he picked."

She shot me a glare. "That man has no taste."

I shrugged. "I wouldn’t know. I’m only interested in what’s under the dress."

Her cheeks flushed, but she covered it with a scoff. "Pervert."

I only grinned, stepping closer until I was right in front of her. My fingers brushed against her waist, and I could feel the slight tremor in her body.

She wasn’t unaffected by me.

That was enough—for now.

"Get dressed, princess," I murmured. "We’ve got a party to attend."

And with that, I forced myself to step away—before I did something that would make us really late.

"A party? And you’re telling me this now?" Alexia shot me a sharp look, her arms crossed in irritation.

I merely shrugged, unfazed by her glare. Without a word, I reached for the dress I had personally picked for her—a sleek black cocktail dress with a bare back and a dangerously high slit that would tease a glimpse of her leg with every step.

"Here. Wear this one," I said, handing it to her. "And for the record, William doesn’t have bad taste. You’re just bitter because he didn’t pack your ridiculous hoodies and baggy pants."

She scoffed, snatching the dress from my hands. "Excuse me for wanting to be comfortable."

I smirked, watching as she turned toward the bathroom. "You know, you could always change right here."

She paused, glancing at me suspiciously.

Then, without a word, she stepped into the bathroom and—click.

She locked the door.

I smirked to myself as I heard the bathroom door lock. Good move, princess.

Not that it would stop me if I really wanted to get in, but I let it slide.

She was flustered.

And I loved it.

I chuckled to myself, shaking my head as I turned to get dressed. I chose a crisp white tuxedo, knowing it would complement the black dress perfectly.

Ten minutes later, I was done, sitting on the bed as I waited for her to emerge.

I could already picture how she’d look in that black cocktail dress—the way it would hug her curves, the way her bare back would be on full display, completely exposed to me.

I had chosen it on purpose.

Not just because it would make every man at that party look at her and wish they had her.

But because at the end of the night, I’d be the one peeling it off her.

And when she did...

Damn.

She was going to drive me insane.

*********

A few minutes passed before the bathroom door creaked open.

I turned my head just in time to see Alexia step out, adjusting the thin straps of the dress.

And fuck.

She was breathtaking.

The black fabric clung to her body in all the right places, highlighting every curve, every dip. The slit teased me as she moved, revealing smooth, toned legs that had been wrapped around me just moments ago in the shower. And that open back? It was pure torture. Her bare skin was on full display, tempting me to trail my fingers, my lips—everywhere.

My jaw tightened.

She flicked her hair over one shoulder, her usual confidence in full force, but I didn’t miss the way her fingers fidgeted slightly with the hem. She knew she looked good. She fucking knew.

I stood, closing the distance between us in slow, deliberate steps. My eyes dragged over her, taking in every inch of her.

"You’re staring," she murmured, shifting slightly under my gaze.

I smirked, reaching out to run a single finger along the strap she had just adjusted. "Can you blame me?"

She rolled her eyes. "It’s just a dress, Aiden."

I leaned in, my lips ghosting over her ear. "Not on you."

Her breath hitched.

I took a step back, forcing myself to regain control. If I wasn’t careful, we weren’t making it to this damn party. And as much as I wanted to rip that dress off her and pin her against the nearest surface, I also wanted to show her off—let every single man at that event know that she was mine.

"Let’s go," I said, offering her my arm.

She hesitated for a second before linking hers with mine, still trying to act indifferent. But I could feel it—her pulse quickened just a little.

******

I knew I was going to regret choosing that damn dress the moment we stepped into the lobby.

Because every man in sight turned to admire her.

Their eyes lingered too long, trailing over the slit in her dress, down her exposed back. Some whispered to each other, some outright stared, and I felt a surge of possessiveness rise in my chest.

I clenched my jaw.

For a split second, I considered taking her back upstairs and making her change into something less revealing. Something that didn’t make every damn man in the room forget their manners.

But I held my jealousy at bay.

Instead, I placed a firm hand on the small of her back, pulling her closer to me. My touch was possessive, a clear message to anyone watching—mine.

Then, I let my gaze sweep across the room, cold and warning.

The men who had been openly gawking quickly averted their eyes, some shifting uncomfortably under my stare. Good.

Alexia, oblivious to the war I was fighting in my head, tilted her head up at me. "You good?"

I forced a smirk, leaning down slightly. "Just making sure people remember who you belong to."

She scoffed. "Oh, please. It’s just a dress and stupid high heels."

Not on you, sweetheart.

But I didn’t say that. I just led her toward the car, making a mental note that if anyone so much as thought about touching her tonight, I wouldn’t be responsible for what happened next.