Chapter 3 Temptations

Christian Something was wrong. I knew it the moment the heat started creeping through my veins, slow and insidious, turning my blood molten. The glass of whiskey I had taken earlier at the function burned in my gut, but it wasn’t just alcohol. No—I had been drugged. I exhaled sharply, adjusting my cuffs as I scanned the lavish ballroom of the Ricci Grand Hotel. The function was a success, with high-profile guests mingling, laughing, and clinking glasses filling the air. But I wasn’t focused on any of that. I clenched my jaw. Who the fuck had done this? My gaze flickered to my cousin, who had handed me the drink earlier, his smirk a little too knowing, his laughter a little too forced. Suspicion coiled in my chest. Was it him? Had he thought this was some kind of joke? I turned to Derrick, my driver and assistant, who was standing discreetly nearby. Derrick was loyal—he had worked for me long enough to know when something was off. And right now, something was definitely off. "I've been drugged," I whispered to his ears as he was trying to drink something. He paused and looked at me in shock. “Find out who the hell did this,” I ordered, my voice cold and controlled despite the fire coursing through me. Derrick’s eyes flickered over me, assessing. He could tell. I was struggling. The drug wasn’t just a stimulant—it was making me need something. A woman. “I’ll arrange someone for you,” Derrick said quickly. “It won’t take long.” “No.” My voice was firm. “No woman. No one comes to my suite.” Derrick hesitated. “Sir, I—” “I said no.” I didn’t want just anyone. I needed to get this out of my system, and the last thing I wanted was to lose control in front of someone who had been paid to be there. Without another word, I turned and strode out of the ballroom, my vision narrowing as I made my way to my private suite. The elevator ride felt excruciatingly slow, the heat burning through my skin, my breaths coming out sharper. The moment I stepped into my suite, I didn’t waste time. I shed my jacket, unbuttoned my shirt, and tossed it aside. My belt came off next, my movements fast, desperate. By the time I reached the bathroom, I was bare, my body rigid with tension. And that was when I saw her. A girl. A small girl, standing in the shower, her hands between her thighs, her head tipped back against the tiles. The air left my lungs in one sharp exhale. She was touching herself. Water dripped down her delicate frame, steam curling around her like a veil. Her lips were slightly parted, her body trembling. I shouldn’t have been here. I shouldn’t have seen this. But I had. And the moment I did, something inside me snapped. I forced myself to look away, to pretend I hadn’t seen her. My body was already on fire, and seeing her like that? It was torture. And the worst part is she looks 18, 19, or 20; still, she was young; she couldn't take my cock. There is no way that is happening. Why was she here? I scanned the floor and saw her uniform; she was a worker here, at my hotel. Great! Without a word, I stepped into the tub, sinking into the hot water, leaning my head back against the porcelain. I closed my eyes, willing my body to calm, but it was useless. She was still there. Still fingering herself. Still moaning softly under her breath. I exhaled harshly, my fingers tightening into fists. This was a fucking disaster. I wasn’t supposed to react to this. I wasn’t supposed to want this. But the way her body arched, the way her breath hitched, the way her hand moved—my grip loosened. My hand started moving on its own. I knew I was losing control, but the drug wasn’t letting me stop. The bathroom was silent except for the running water and the sound of our breathing. We weren’t speaking. We weren’t touching. But we were connected in that moment, in a way I never should have let happen. I refused to look at her. I refused to acknowledge the way she was making this worse for me, and then she did something that pushed me past my limit. She slid down onto the shower floor, her legs parting just slightly—just enough for me to see everything. Something inside me snapped. A low growl rumbled in my throat as my body betrayed me completely. I knew then—there was no going back. Her body trembled beneath the running water, droplets trailing down the smooth curves of her skin, glistening under the dim bathroom lights. Her lips were slightly parted, a soft, shaky breath escaping as she touched herself. What a sight, a fucking beautiful sight. The sight was ruinous. I dragged a hand down my face, willing myself to ignore her. I had made the choice the second I stepped into this bathroom—I wouldn’t acknowledge her. Wouldn’t look. But here I am, looking, wanting more. It was impossible not to want more. She was temptation itself, innocence wrapped in something wicked, a vision I had no business watching. The way she arched against the tiles, the way her thighs pressed together, the slow, unsteady movements of her fingers as she tried to chase a relief she didn’t understand—it was maddening. Fucking maddening. I exhaled sharply, the sound drowned by the steady stream of water. My pulse pounded against my skull, my chest rising and falling unevenly. This wasn’t just the drug. It was her. She was making it worse. I forced myself to look away, tilting my head back against the edge of the tub, my eyes staring at the ceiling as if that would erase the image of her from my mind. It didn’t. My grip tightened around cock, my hand moving, slow at first, in a desperate attempt to get the fire out of my system. My body was taut with tension, muscles straining as I stroked myself, my breaths coming in rough pants. I wasn’t supposed to want this. I wasn’t supposed to react like this. And then, she moved. I felt it before I saw it—the slight shift, the soft splash of water against the tiled floor. I made the mistake of looking at her again. And fuck—she was giving me a show, legs parting even more, giving me a perfect view of everything I had been desperately trying to ignore. I lost it. A deep, guttural sound tore from my throat, a raw, primal growl that echoed through the steam-filled room. The line I had drawn—the control I had fought to keep—it snapped in half. She was too much. Too tempting. Too innocent and yet completely unaware of what she was doing to me. I let my head fall back again, my fingers tightening as I jerked myself harder, my body thrumming with need, my control hanging by a thread. She wasn’t stopping. She wasn’t afraid. She was feeling just as much as I was, her hands roaming her own skin, her thighs shifting, her chest rising and falling in uneven breaths. The air was thick, heavy with something unspoken, something neither of us acknowledged. Yet we were feeding off each other, caught in the same web of heat, of desperation. Her breath hitched, and I knew she was close. Fuck. I clenched my jaw, my body straining against the pleasure that coiled deep inside me, fighting the inevitable. But I couldn’t stop. Not anymore. And then I heard her, "Please." Holy hell!