I didn’t sleep.
Not after what happened at the pool. Not after seeing the look in Julian’s eyes—dark and unreadable, like he’d known it would end this way. Like he’d been waiting for me to fall.
And fall, I had.
For both of them.
I should have left the villa that morning. Called for a car. Packed my bag. But I didn’t. I stayed. And by nightfall, I knew exactly why.
The invitation came as a single text from Dominic:
“Penthouse. 10 PM. No lingerie.”
I stared at the screen, breath caught between panic and arousal.
No lingerie.
He didn’t want barriers. Not fabric. Not rules.
Neither did I.
⸻
The penthouse was quiet. Dimly lit with warm golden lamps, the space smelled like leather, cedarwood, and something deeper—masculine. Dominant. Dangerous.
I stepped in barefoot, wrapped in not
