Owned by Midnight (18+)

READER DISCRETION ADVISED:

The following scene contains mature and erotic content intended for readers 18 and older.

The soft click of the door echoed behind them, a final note to a conversation that had stretched well into the night. Serena stood barefoot on the polished wood floors of her penthouse, arms folded as she stared out the floor-to-ceiling windows. The city glittered below, golden and distant, like a dream too far gone.

Alex was behind her, silent and watching.

"Is this where you run to when you're tired of pretending?" he asked, voice low, almost reverent.

She didn't turn. "No. This is where I come when I'm tired of being watched."

A pause, then. "And tonight?"

Serena exhaled, slow and careful. "Tonight, I didn't want to be alone."

She felt the shift in the air before she heard him move, soft footfalls, the rustle of his jacket coming off, the quiet hum of the world narrowing to the space between them. When his hand brushed her shoulder, she didn't flinch.

"I shouldn't have come," Alex said, his voice close now, warm against her skin. "But I couldn't stay away."

She turned, not fully but enough to meet his gaze, her profile lit by the glow of the city.

"You always say things like that," she murmured. "But you never tell me why."

His eyes searched hers. "Because I don't want to lie to you. And the truth... the truth is complicated."

Serena gave a bitter little laugh. "Everything about you is complicated, Alexander Ward."

He flinched at the name. "You make it sound like a sin."

She stepped closer, close enough to feel the heat radiating from him. "Isn't it?"

Neither moved for a beat. Then, slowly, she reached up and undid the first button of her blouse. Not fast, not seductive, just deliberate.

"If you're going to lie to me," she said softly. "At least do it without the distance."

He caught her wrist, not hard, but firm enough to still her hand. "I'm not here to lie."

She searched his face. "Then why are you here?"

"I wanted to see you."

"That's not an answer."

He leaned in. "No. But this is."

And then he kissed her.

It wasn't a gentle kiss. It was urgent, raw with weeks of tension and unsaid things. Serena met him with equal fire, pressing against him as if trying to burn the mystery from his skin. Their hands were everywhere, impatient, searching, starved.

She walked him backward.

The wineglass on the kitchen counter went untouched. The city watched through the windows, but Serena didn't care.

Tonight, she wasn't the daughter of a cold mother or the shadow of a missing father.

Tonight, she was heat and skin and power.

Tonight, she was with him.

**********************

The kiss deepened, hungry and unfiltered. Serena clutched at his shirt, twisting the fabric between her fingers as if she could drag the truth out of him with her touch. Her back met the wall first. Then his hands found her waist, lifting her slightly as her legs wrapped around him with a kind of practiced grace and reckless need. He tasted like danger. Like promises she knew he'd never keep.

Her breath hitched when his mouth left hers to trace a line down her jaw with his stubble grazing her skin.

"You're not supposed to be here," she whispered, the words barely holding shape as he kissed the hollow of her throat.

"I know," he said. "But I couldn't help it."

She tangled her fingers in his hair, tugging just hard enough to make him groan. "You always do this. Disappear, reappear. Say just enough to keep me... guessing."

"And yet," he murmured, dragging his lips back to hers, "you still let me in."

She hated that he was right. She hated that his touch made her forget every smart reason to keep him at arm's length.

He carried her to the couch and dropped her gently onto the cushions. Her silk blouse was unbuttoned in seconds. His hands paused, eyes roaming over her like he was memorizing something forbidden. She should've stopped him then, should've demanded answers, demanded truth but his hands were already on her, and her body was betraying every shred of caution she'd tried to maintain.

"You're dangerous," she breathed as he kissed down her sternum, lips brushing the lace of her bra.

"So are you," he said, eyes dark. "But I'm not afraid of you, Serena."

Her name fell from his mouth like a challenge.

She sat up suddenly, flipping their positions with unexpected strength, straddling his lap, unfastening his shirt. "That's because you don't know what I'm capable of."

His breath hitched as her nails scraped down his chest.

"I have no idea," he said, voice rough.

She slid her fingers into his hair again, guiding his mouth back to hers, grinding against him with maddening slowness. She felt him hard beneath her, restrained only by the layers between them. When his hands slipped beneath her skirt and gripped her thighs, she let out a soft moan and kissed him harder.

Clothes came off in rapidly, buttons tearing, fabric slipping, barriers falling one by one.

The moment turned feverish. Her back arched as he worshipped every inch of her like he'd been starving for it. Their movements were uncoordinated but urgent, chasing something just out of reach. She gasped when he finally entered her slowly, deeply, filling her completely.

For a breathless moment, neither moved.

Her hands slid up his shoulders, nails digging in.

"Alexander..." she whispered, and he stilled.

Her eyes met his. He kissed her hard before she could ask anything more.

They moved together with a rhythm born of want and withheld truths. Each thrust was a conversation they weren't ready to have. Her moans filled the room, and he drank in every sound like a man dying of thirst. He whispered her name like it hurt to say it. Like it healed him to say it.

And when she came, hips bucking, voice broken in ecstasy, he followed soon after, collapsing against her with a soft, reverent sound.

They lay tangled in each other, bodies slick and warm, hearts pounding.

Neither spoke for a long time.

Because if they did, the spell would break.

*****************

The air had cooled, but neither of them reached for their clothes.

Serena lay on her side, her hand resting lightly on his chest, fingers tracing an old scar that curved along his ribs. His breathing had begun to slow, though his eyes remained open, locked on the ceiling like he couldn't afford to close them.

"You always disappear after this," she said softly, her voice cutting through the stillness.

He turned his head toward her. "Do I?"

She arched a brow. "Don't pretend you don't know."

He was quiet. The tension crept back in, subtle, but present. The kind that couldn't be soothed by touch or distraction.

"I don't want to leave," he said, finally.

"But you will."

Alex didn't answer. He sat up, elbows resting on his knees, eyes fixed on some distant place beyond the room. Serena watched him silently, noting the sudden weight in his posture, the burden he carried like a second skin.

"I don't even know who you are," she murmured, wrapping the sheet around her as she sat up beside him. "You're not just the man who walked into my event. Or the one who stole my attention like he had a right to it."

His jaw tightened.

"You've been trained to hide. Every part of you is calculated, and yet..." She trailed off, reaching out to touch his back. Her fingers moved along the muscles, stopping at the same scar she'd been tracing earlier. "This, this is real. And I don't know what to do with it."

He turned to face her, his eyes darker than before.

"I've spent a long time being someone I wasn't," he said. "But tonight... I was just a man with the woman he couldn't forget."

Her heart stuttered but before she could respond, he reached for his shirt. Slowly and carefully. The moment was dissolving, and she could feel it happening like fog pulling away from glass.

"So that's it?" she asked.

"I didn't come here to hurt you."

"But you will."

He stood, gathering the rest of his clothes, carefully avoiding her gaze.

Serena rose too, the sheet wrapped around her like armor. "You say things like that, but you're still hiding. From me. From whatever this is."

Alex finally looked at her, and the grief in his eyes was staggering. "If I give you everything right now, it would ruin you."

She stared at him. "Try me."

The words hung in the air, brave and foolish.

He didn't answer, he just crossed the room, paused at the door, and looked back one last time.

"I hope you never find out who I really am."

Then he was gone.

Serena stood in the silence, the city lights still dancing behind her but she no longer felt powerful.

She felt... chosen. Then discarded.