"What's the use of covering up now? I had them to myself for the whole night," he mused as she stared at him.
He bent down slightly, his breath brushing against her pinkish ear as he whispered, "I had the whole of you at my disposal for the entire night, as a matter of fact."
The warm breath made her recoil, the motion forcing her to open her arms to brace herself as her breasts swayed.
They were not so big that they'd feel the pull of gravity, but not small enough to be ignored either.
"I thought you were trying to hide them, not show them off." His voice carried a hint of mockery, but she didn't miss the dangerous undertones as she tried to remember how the fuck she had ended up in this situation.
Suddenly, a few flashes came back to her. She remembered a sleazy man, a detached and calm face, Adrian Voss's assistant, Victor, she realized as she remembered following him back.
The ache in her head, which had subsided somewhat due to the situation she was in, again made its presence known as a bolt of pain jolted her upright, making her groan.
"Looks like you're finally remembering some stuff," she heard him say as she felt his hands close around her wrist and pull away the hand that was covering her face due to the sudden pain.
She was just about to look up when she felt a mildly hot mug in her hand and looked down.
"Drink it. It's for the hangover."
She would have thought twice about drinking something from a shady billionaire in his underground dungeon while sitting stark naked on his bed, especially after her experience last night.
She most probably should have, had she been in her right mind.
But she just opened her mouth and gulped the drink down.
She felt a sting of lime as the mildly warm liquid softly glided down her throat, leaving behind a comforting aftertaste of what she could only categorize as honey.
In short, she felt like it cleared her head considerably.
Maybe not enough to consider bolting, or even covering the fuck up, because she simply looked up.
"Thanks," were the only words that left her mouth.
"For what?" he said as he sat down on the bed, one leg propped over the white mattress while the other remained on the floor.
It was only then that she realized the man was wearing a midnight-blue satin robe.
His sitting position had caused the robe to slip, baring the whole leg that rested on the white mattress.
The man was surely enchanting, pure muscles rippling beneath the light brown skin of his thighs. Fine black hairs covered his whole leg, but even they could not hide the stretch of what could only be described as art, the art of muscle and power.
"Stared enough?" she heard him say, making her realize what she was doing.
What the fuck? Was she really ogling Adrian Voss right now?
Something she couldn't even think of in her fucking dreams. She couldn't make sense of anything right now.
"Go ahead. I didn't mean to interrupt your admiration," he mused.
"That's not—"
"So, as I was asking, did you remember everything from last night?" he cut her off.
She shook her head. "I do, but only in bits and pieces."
"Well, that's not good."
She couldn't understand what he meant by that.
"You see, we decided something yesterday." He leaned back against the headboard of the bed, her eyes drifting to his thigh despite herself.
"Something quite important, actually."
Her eyes squinted as she tried to remember, but she could not.
"I do remember your assistant taking me here. Then it's all blank," she said as she rubbed her head.
"Did I pass out or something?"
She looked up at him as she said it, but something about his demeanor told her she was probably wrong and that something had indeed happened.
"Pass out?" he said with a mocking edge to his cold voice as he looked at her.
She didn't know what to say. Was that a question, a statement, or something else? What the fuck was she supposed to do now?
Well, she didn't have to think for long because while she was busy admiring the long expanse of his leg, she hadn't noticed how close he had gotten to her or had she been the one to scoot closer?
Not that she had any time to think about it, as she felt a firm grip in the tangled mess that was her hair and felt it being tugged back harshly, exposing the expanse of her bare neck and making her wince as she was forced to look up.
"Pass out you did," he said as he towered over her, even while sitting down.
"But it's what happened before that that I'm concerned with here," he continued as she felt the headache intensifying. Along with the headache came another feeling she couldn't classify fast enough as he pushed her head down onto the soft mattress, his mouth pressed to her ear as his hot breath tickled her and added more to her already tangled mess of emotions.
"What I want you to remember is you passing out upon me," he said as she felt him move above her. She was now trapped between his thighs as he forced her head down with a firm grip.
"What I want you to remember is you lying on my bathroom floor, half-naked, looking at me with those glossed-over eyes."
"What I want you to remember is your own body's condition, your pebbled brown nipples aching for attention," he said as his other hand suddenly crept between her bare breasts and the soft mattress.
Something must have been wrong with her. She should have been running, thrashing, cursing him.
But she lay there like a hypnotized mummy, a lifeless doll, waiting for her destiny.
And either the alcohol or the drug still had its effect on her, because she herself could not believe the breathy moan that escaped her mouth as she felt his cold fingers pinch her hot, pebbled nipple harshly.
The moan was muffled due to her head being pressed against the mattress, so she could only hope that he hadn't heard anything. She desperately hoped so.
But the cold, mocking chuckle behind her ear and his cold hand pinching her nipple before soothing it by rolling it gently told her that he was well aware of what she was feeling.
And that mortified, ashamed feeling did something to her mind. She felt another moan rise from her mouth, this one louder and more intense than the last.