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One Night Stand Series  Novel Cover

One Night Stand Series

Intended for mature audiences due to explicit sexual themes, this series explores the consequences of a single night of passion. What began as a simple quest for pleasure evolves into a collection of erotic tales where boundaries are crossed and hidden desires surface. These stories delve into the raw emotions and dangerous obsessions of lovers caught in forbidden encounters. It is a journey through unrestrained heat and the secrets of the heart.
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Chapter 2

"Here's some water, sunshine."

  That voice deep, a little hoarse, maddeningly masculine washed over me like heat. My nipples hardened instantly.

  His voice wasn't the only thing doing things to me. There was a lavender scent in the air warm, soft, seductive. It pulled me in before I could even see him. Whoever this man was, I didn't want him to leave. Ever.

  I tilted my head up and God, I wish I hadn't.

  He stood tall, commanding the room without trying. Leaf-brown hair, eyes the color of spring leaves and secrets, and a face carved like he was sculpted in a dream. His eyes glowed with quiet admiration, and I was completely lost in them.

  His beards were dark and finely trimmed, enhancing the edges of his already flawless jaw. A tiny stud glittered in his ear, subtle but impossible to miss.

  He wore a navy blue suit, tailored to perfection expensive, rich-looking. The jacket curved perfectly around his body, hinting at strength beneath. When he undid the buttons, revealing a crisp white shirt stretched over his broad chest, I swallowed hard. I couldn't stop staring. His arms, his shoulders, that narrow waist... my entire body reacted.

  God help me.

  My head was spinning, not from alcohol, and definitely not from whatever it is that's in my body, but from lust. My eyes shamelessly dropped to the outline of his trousers, and I swore I could feel it pressing into me already. I wanted him on top of me, inside me. I didn't even know his name.

  What the hell was wrong with me?

  Looking at his face, he was definitely older maybe ten, eleven years my senior. But I didn't care. As long as he wasn't my father, he could ruin me however he wanted.

  I smiled faintly, picked up the water, and drank it all down in one go. It burned down my throat like fire, but weirdly, it dulled the ache inside me. The ache from earlier. The ache that had Dave's name on it.

  "Do you want more?" he asked, that deep voice laced with amusement.

  I looked up, and his smile nearly undid me. His white teeth, his calm confidence... he didn't feel real. Was he an angel? Sent to erase my pain?

  Since he showed up, I hadn't thought about my fiancé. Not once. Not about what Dave did to me. Not about how broken I felt. This stranger was filling up all the spaces Dave tore open.

  I drank again, and again, unable to stop staring at the bulge in his pants.

  "Staring won't pull my pants off," he said smoothly. "You'll have to do that with your hands."

  I blinked. Wait, what?

  He caught me.

  Embarrassed, I looked away too late. I'd been caught red-handed or red-eyed, in this case. I tried to get up, staggering from the chair, needing to distance myself from him before I actually did what he said. My thighs were hot, my panties soaked. I still had dignity. I was still engaged and this behavior of mine is literally immoral.

  Where the hell was Liam with that water? And where were my friends?

  The club had emptied out without me noticing. No one around. Just me and him.

  Was this a dream? A horny hallucination?

  I blinked hard, pressing my hands against my eyes, trying to reset.

  And then his arm wrapped around my waist. From behind. That scent lavender again wrapped around me as his body pressed into mine. I froze, every nerve in my body sparking like electricity.

  I didn't need to turn to know it was him.

  Why did he have to smell so good?

  I wanted to pull away, to stop this madness. But then his warm breath brushed my neck, and I was melting again. He pulled me closer. We began to sway, slow and steady, as if the music had always belonged to us.

  Then, he stopped. I gasped.

  "Do you want to leave with me... to somewhere more private, sunshine?" he asked.

  The heat between my legs surged. I was ready to tear my clothes off and beg him to fuck me.

  I nodded.

  "Can you walk?" he whispered.

  No. I couldn't.

  I shook my head.

  He chuckled low and deep before sweeping me off the ground in his arms, princess-style. I let out a small, breathy cry. My soaked panties clung to me shamefully.

  Outside, a silver Phantom Rolls Royce pulled up with quiet elegance. A man in black emerged, bowed, and opened the door.

  "Follow the other car," my stranger ordered.

  Once inside, he laid me gently on the seat, ensuring I was comfortable before climbing in next to me. The door shut, and the world faded.

  His hand found my thigh. It trailed upward, slow and possessive. I shivered.

  One moment we were silent. The next, I was on his lap, his arms wrapped around me, hands exploring. He spanked me lightly and chuckled when I gasped.

  Our lips collided and I floated. His kiss was fire and silk, desperation and control. I felt his hand cupping my face, deepening the kiss, and in that moment, nothing else mattered.

  When he broke the kiss, I whimpered, only for it to be replaced with moans as he trailed kisses down my neck. He undid the top buttons of my shirt, exposing my shoulder, and kissed it gently. My hands wrapped around his neck, needing more.

  His lips returned to mine demanding now. One hand slid over my breast, squeezing gently. I could feel the hardness of his cock pressing against me through my skirt, and I was dying to taste him. Without realizing it, my hand was stroking him through his pants.

  "Yes, sunshine," he groaned into my mouth.

  That voice...

  I was gone.

  When he broke the kiss again, I almost cried.

  "Why did you stop?" I asked breathlessly.

  He smiled.... God, that smile.

  "Because we're home, sunshine."

  Home.

  I clung to him like the world would end if I let go.

  And yet some part of me, some tiny voice fought to surface. You don't know this man. You're engaged.

  "I'm sorry. I don't think I can do this," I said weakly, trying to pull away.

  He looked at me. Deep. Intense. Like he could see through me.

  "I think you're drugged," he said calmly. "I don't fuck drugged women. I like my women sane when I fuck the life out of them. But I'll still make you cum until you beg me to stop."

  His words alone made me wetter.

  I kissed him again desperate, out of control.

  And then, we were in his bedroom.

  ---

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