Chapter 2 One Night Stand
1188 Words
Claire's POV
The first thing I felt was heat. Not from the morning sun, but from the sheets tangled around my bare legs, still holding the traces of last night's fever.
I stirred, disoriented, and the scent in the air hit me. Crisp like pine and mint, yet wild in a way that didn't belong to cities or people. My lashes fluttered open.
The room wasn't mine.
High ceilings. Velvet curtains drawn halfway. A crystal chandelier that glittered in the pale dawn. And beneath me, silk sheets smooth as sin. I sat up too fast, the blanket falling to my waist. My body ached in places I hadn't known could ache. Every breath a reminder of what had happened, what I had let happen.
God.
My pulse stuttered as the truth hit: I'd slept with a stranger.
A stranger whose face I could still see every time I blinked — sharp jawline, ice-blue eyes, a voice that rumbled like thunder from somewhere deep in his chest.
Lucius.
Even the memory of his name made my skin prickle.
Then I heard it,the steady rush of running water from the bathroom.
He was still here.
Panic crawled up my throat. I scanned the room for my dress, spotted the scarlet fabric pooled near an armchair, and clutched the blanket tighter. My mind felt like shards of glass, replaying flashes of the night before — his touch, his breath, the way he'd said my name like it was sacred.
And how easily I'd fallen.
It had started with a kiss.His lips had brushed mine once, twice, testing, before deepening the kiss until I forgot how to breathe.
When he pulled back, I'd whispered, "I don't usually—"
"I know," he'd murmured. "You don't have to explain."
He'd guided me slowly, patiently, his hands tracing my shoulders, my spine, every curve as if memorizing them. And when he finally entered me, I gasped. Pain flashed, then melted into something fierce and consuming. He froze, his breath hitching.
"Claire," he whispered, his voice breaking, "tell me to stop."
But I didn't. I couldn't.
Because for the first time in my life, I felt alive.
There was too much power beneath his restraint, too much heat. He kissed me until I forgot my own name, until the world narrowed to the sound of his heartbeat against mine — heavy, irregular, almost animal.
And when I finally reached my climax beneath him, he caught me, holding me so tightly it almost hurt.
Then everything faded into silence.
Now the silence was unbearable.
The water shut off.
I scrambled to gather my clothes, fingers trembling, my mind screaming for escape. But before I could reach the door, it swung open suddenly.
Lucius stepped out.
He wore nothing but a towel, water dripping down his chest, blond hair damp and tousled. In daylight, he looked impossibly beautiful. Too beautiful.
Our eyes met. His were cooler now, unreadable.
For a heartbeat, neither of us spoke.
His gaze dropped to the bed, then to the faint, unmistakable stain on the sheets.
My stomach turned to stone.
His jaw clenched. "That was your first time," he said, not asking — stating.
I felt the blood drain from my face. "That's none of your business."
He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "I should've stopped."
"Yeah," I bit out, forcing a shaky laugh. "You should've."
He turned toward the dresser and reached for his wallet.
My heart lurched.
Of course. This was the part where he'd pay me off, because that's what strangers did after ruining something sacred, wasn't it?
Before he could say another word, I snatched my purse from the floor, pulled out the crumpled bills I had left from last night. A hundred and fifty dollars.
I threw them onto the table.
"There," I snapped, voice cracking. "You're worth about that much."
The words tasted like acid.
Lucius went still.
Then he turned, slowly, his eyes no longer cold but burning. "You think I'd treat you like that?" he asked softly. Too softly.
My throat tightened. "What else am I supposed to think?"
Something shifted in him. The air thickened. His pupils expanded, swallowing the pale blue until gold flickered underneath — bright, unnatural, alive.
A low, guttural growl rumbled from deep in his chest, too low to be human. The sound vibrated through the air, crawling beneath my skin and freezing me in place.
"Lucius…" I whispered, backing away. "What the hell was that?"
He didn't answer. His breathing had changed. Heavier, rougher. For a moment, I thought he might… shift. Into what, I didn't know.
Then he blinked, and the gold faded.
"Get dressed," he said quietly, turning away as if he'd just chained himself. "You'll catch cold."
That tiny flicker of concern only fueled my humiliation. "Don't pretend you care."
He didn't move. Didn't even look at me. But I heard the faintest crack in his voice when he murmured, "You shouldn't run from me, Claire."
"Watch me."
I grabbed my shoes and bolted.
The hallway was long and too bright. My heels clicked against marble, echoing like gunshots. By the time I reached the hotel lobby, I was half shaking, half laughing at myself — the kind of hysterical laugh that comes right before tears. The receptionist gave me a curious look, but I kept walking, clutching my coat tight over my chest.
Outside, the morning wind was merciless. The city was waking. People rushing to work, cars honking. All of them unaware that somewhere above, a stupid, broken girl had just left her soul in a stranger's bed.
I walked fast, my mind looping through fragments of the night — his touch, his voice, that impossible glimmer in his eyes.
Maybe it had just been the light. Maybe I was drunker than I'd realized.
But then I heard it.
A sound.
Low. Deep. Animal.
It came from behind me, distant yet too close. My heart jumped to my throat. I turned — nothing but an empty street, sunlight spilling through the high-rises.
Still, the air felt alive, charged with static.
Something was watching me.
I clutched my purse tighter and started walking again, faster now, pretending not to hear the faint echo that followed. A growl swallowed by the wind.
My heart refused to slow down. My skin burned where his hands had been, my body thrumming with something I couldn't name.
I told myself it was just adrenaline. Just shame.
By the time I reached my apartment, my hands were still trembling. I locked the door behind me and pressed my forehead against the cool wood, trying to breathe.
One night. That's all it was supposed to be.
A mistake. A lapse in judgment.
But every nerve in my body disagreed.
Because even now, if I closed my eyes, I could still feel him — the warmth of his breath, the pulse of his heartbeat, the faint growl buried under his restraint.
And deep down, some reckless, secret part of me knew…
Whatever Lucius was, he wasn't done with me.
And I wasn't done with him either.God help me.
- Writer
