Katubari

* At night
He was rugged and untamed. That one steamy night left Grace utterly captivated. She coyly stretched out her dainty, snow-white feet, hooking them around his waist as she softly laid down her terms:
For the first time, no staying overnight.
The second time, the moment he got himself a significant other, she'd vanish from his side.
Later on, their liaison would remain strictly on a physical level.
No strings of money attached, no emotional fetters, just the most primal and unadulterated desires that flared up when night fell, entwining them like a web spun by countless spiders.
And once the moment had passed, she'd straighten her skirt and turn her back on him, cold as ice.
*During daytime
He was the heir to a vast business empire, now impeccably dressed in a sharp suit, exuding an air of aristocratic reserve. He extended his hand to her with a polite smile, 
“Hello, Grace.”
Grace gritted her teeth in secret dismay. She hastened to call off whatever was brewing between them, only to find herself cornered against the dressing room by the man, with no way out.
In that cramped space, he was a relentless predator, and she, his irresistible quarry. His firmness pressed against her soft curves, setting every inch ablaze.
Outside the door, her female colleagues were swooning over his chiseled abs.
Just a thin partition away, he locked his arm around her willowy waist, seized her delicate hand, and guided it to rest on his taut abdomen, his voice dripping with a sultry allure, “Thought you could slip away? It's far too late for that.”

Dangerous: Don't cross the line!

Grace hesitated to say more with the driver present, but John's low chuckle broke the silence.

"That's your idea of gratitude? Not enough for me."

His teasing words sparked a boldness in Grace. She reached up, looping her arms around his neck, and pressed her lips to his.

Since their night at the sky-high hotel, they hadn't been intimate. But the embers of desire had never fully extinguished. All it took was a single spark to reignite the flames—and this time, they burned hotter than ever.

Grace was acutely aware of her longing for him. It wasn't about love; it was pure, physical need.

No, she wanted John, specifically.

In this game of patience and restraint, he had won.

After tasting his touch, Grace had become addicted.

Their lips met in a fervent kiss, their bodies entwined as lovers lost in passion. The heat between them was undeniable, and for a moment, Grace forgot where they were.

I want your heart