Ivy_Daniel_8809

One night. No consequences. That’s what he promised me.

When Damien Cross—Manhattan’s most enigmatic billionaire—slipped a midnight invitation into my clutch, I should have said no. I should have walked away from the hunger in his silver eyes and the secrets lurking behind his perfect smile.

But I didn’t.

I went to his penthouse. I let him touch me. And in a single, breathless moment, I surrendered everything I thought I knew about desire.

Now I’m tangled in a world of luxury and temptation I can’t escape.

He says he doesn’t do commitment.
He says he can’t offer more than tonight.

But every time he whispers my name, every time he drags me to the edge of pleasure, I start to believe the most dangerous lie of all—

That I can survive loving a man who was never meant to be mine.

Claimed by the billionaire

When I opened my eyes, the sun was already rising over Manhattan, washing the penthouse in soft gold.

For a moment, I couldn't remember where I was. My cheek pressed against a pillow that smelled faintly of expensive cologne. My body ached in ways that had nothing to do with my high heels.

Then I felt the warm weight of Damien's arm draped across my waist, and everything rushed back in a dizzying wave.

I lay perfectly still, hoping if I didn't move, the reality of what I'd done wouldn't catch up with me. But every memory was seared into my skin—the way he'd looked at me, the rough edge in his voice when he told me he wouldn't stop unless I asked. The way I hadn't even thought about asking.

His breath stirred the hair at the nape of my neck. I closed my eyes, pretending he was still asleep, pretending I had time to figure out what the hell came next.

I tensed before I could help it. Of course he wasn't asleep. Damien Cross struck me as the kind of man who never let himself drift off completely.

His hand tightened fractionally on my hip. "You could stay."

I swallowed. "That's not a good idea."

"Because you think you'll regret this?"

I rolled onto my back to look at him. Even rumpled from sleep, he was too composed. Too steady. Like the night hadn't touched him the same way it had wrecked me.

"You said it yourself," I said, searching his eyes. "This doesn't mean anything."

He studied me for a moment, long enough that I wanted to squirm.

"Do you think it felt meaningless?"

I opened my mouth to answer, but nothing came out. The truth was tangled up somewhere between my ribcage and my throat.

Damien's gaze swept over my face, then lower, lingering in a way that made my pulse start up again.

"I don't offer things I can't give," he said finally. "I won't pretend to be someone I'm not. But I'm not going to apologize for wanting you."

I sat up, tugging the sheets around me, trying to build some kind of barrier between my bare skin and his scrutiny.

"This was a mistake," I said, though my voice was too soft to sound convincing.

"Say that again," he murmured, reaching out to trace a finger along my collarbone. Goosebumps lifted in the wake of his touch.

His lips curved, just a hint of that dangerous smile. "That's what I thought."

Heat flared in my cheeks, along with something I refused to name—something that felt too much like anticipation.

I slipped from the bed, ignoring the way his gaze followed every movement. My dress was still pooled near the windows, and when I bent to pick it up, I felt his eyes on the curve of my back, the marks he'd left on my skin.

"You don't have to run," he said, voice low.

I straightened, clutching the fabric to my chest like armor. "Leaving before this becomes something I can't walk away from."

For a second, the silence pressed in so thick I could hardly breathe.

"Then go," he said. No anger. Just certainty. "But you'll be back."

I lifted my chin, ignoring the way my heart tripped over itself.

I stepped into the elevator, refusing to look at him one last time. But as the doors slid shut, I couldn't shake the feeling that he was right.

And that terrified me more than anything else.

Morning Light...