I Felt... Content

Arec's POV:

I hadn't planned on any of this, actually.

When I stormed out of my house earlier tonight, anger boiling under my skin, the last thing I expected was to end up here, at the bar of my usual haunt, with a stunning, yet broken woman.

But as I watched her drown her sorrows in whiskey, something inside me shifted. Maybe it was the way she downed her drink without flinching, like she was trying to chase away the pain, or maybe it was the way she carried herself, even in her misery, a kind of quiet strength that drew me in.

I had asked her to come with me before I even realized what I was saying. The words slipped out, and for a moment, I thought she would tell me to fuck off. But then she nodded.

"Where" she asked her voice barely a whisper.

I didn't know what I was doing, or why I was doing it, but I knew that I needed to get her out of that bar. Out of that pit of despair she seemed to be sinking into.

"There's a hotel nearby," I said, my voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions raging inside me. "Let's get out of here. You don't need to be alone tonight."

"Okay," she said , her voice soft and slightly slurred, but her eyes, they held a spark of something, maybe hope or desperation, I couldn't tell. But whatever it was, it was enough to make her take my hand when I offered it.

We walked in silence, the cool night air a welcome contrast to the stifling atmosphere of the club.

I could feel her tension beside me, the way she held herself so tightly, like she was afraid of falling apart if she let go. I didn't say anything, didn't try to fill the silence with meaningless chatter. I just led her toward the hotel.

When we reached the hotel, I headed straight for the reception desk, making it look like we were just checking in. The receptionist gave me a knowing look, one that I chose to ignore. I didn't care what she thought, tonight wasn't about that.

The elevator ride to the penthouse was silent.

As the elevator doors slid open and I led her into the suite, I knew there was no turning back.

I barely had the door closed before I cupped her face in my hands and kissed her. I had been waiting all night to do that, and when her lips met mine, it was like a dam breaking.

She kissed me back with a desperation that matched my own, our need for each other overriding everything else. There was no room for hesitation or second thoughts.

The kiss deepened as we stumbled toward the bed, our hands fumbling with clothes, trying to get them off as quickly as possible.

I had never felt such urgency before, such raw need. And when I finally pushed her onto the bed, hovering over her, I couldn't stop myself from trailing kisses along her neck, her collarbone, my hands roaming her body as if I couldn't get enough of her.

She moaned softly, the sound like music to my ears, urging me on. My lips found their way to her breasts, my hands kneading the soft flesh as I took one nipple into my mouth, sucking and biting gently. Her back arched off the bed, a gasp escaping her lips, and I knew I had her right where I wanted her.

My other hand teased her other nipple, twisting and pinching in time with my mouth, eliciting more of those sweet sounds from her.

She was trembling beneath me, her body responding to every touch, every kiss. And when I reached the waistband of her panties, I paused, looking up at her, seeking permission.

She nodded, and I didn't waste any time. I slipped the thin fabric down her legs and tossed them aside, my gaze never leaving hers. I kissed the inside of her thighs, taking my time, savoring the way her breath hitched.

When my mouth finally found its way between her legs, she let out a broken moan, her hips bucking against me. I was relentless, my tongue flicking and teasing in a rhythm that had her writhing beneath me, her hands gripping my hair as if she was afraid I would stop.

"Don't stop," she gasped, her voice breathy and desperate, and I had no intention of stopping. Not until I had her falling apart in my arms.

And then, with one final flick of my tongue, she shattered, her orgasm ripping through her with a force that left her breathless and trembling.

She cried out, her back arching off the bed, her body quaking beneath me, and I made sure to draw out every last ounce of pleasure until she was left panting, utterly spent.

I kissed my way back up her body, taking my time, relishing in the afterglow that still clung to her. When I finally hovered over her again, looking down at her, I brushed a strand of hair from her face.

"Are you sure about this?" I asked, my voice softer now, the intensity of the moment giving way to something more tender, more cautious.

She reached up, cupping my face in her hands, and pulled me down for a kiss. It was a clear answer, one that left no room for doubt. I unbuckled my belt, my heart racing as I positioned myself between her legs.

When I entered her, she moaned, her nails digging into my shoulders as I began to move.

The desperation from earlier was still there, but now it was mixed with something else, something deeper, more profound. I could feel it in the way she clung to me, in the way her body responded to mine.

"Faster," she whispered, her voice hoarse, demanding. "More."

And I gave her more. I rammed into her with everything I had, my movements fast and rough, driven by a need I couldn't explain. Her moans grew louder, more frantic, as she urged me on, and I didn't hold back.

As the pleasure gradually built up, she clung to me, her nails raking down my back as she tumbled over the edge once more.

Her second orgasm hit her just as hard as the first, her body convulsing beneath me, and I followed soon after, my own release crashing over me like a tidal wave.

For a moment, we just lay there, our bodies still intertwined, our breaths coming in ragged gasps. I could feel the sweat cooling on my skin, the aftershocks of pleasure still tingling in my veins. I rolled off her, pulling her into my arms, and for the first time in a long time, I felt...content.

I wasn't the kind of man who cuddled after a one-night stand. Hell, I wasn't the kind of man who cuddled, period. But tonight was different. She was different.

I didn't know her name. I didn't know her story beyond the snippets she had shared with me. But as I lay there, holding her in my arms, I realized that it didn't matter. What mattered was that, for tonight, we had found something in each other, a connection, a solace, a way to drown out the pain and loneliness, even if only for a little while.

She fell asleep first, her breathing evening out as she drifted off in my arms. I watched her for a while, my mind racing with thoughts I couldn't quite grasp.

I had come here tonight to forget, to escape, and instead, I had found something else - something I couldn't quite explain.