Aiden
The first time I tasted her name on my tongue, I knew I would ruin her.
Not because I wanted to.
But because I had to.
Valentine Danbury had the kind of soul you didn't just crave—you consumed. Slowly. Deliberately. Until she forgot where she ended and you began.
That night, I didn't just sneak into the Danbury manor.
I infiltrated a life I had no business touching.
The shadows welcomed me like they knew I belonged. The manor groaned with secrets. And when I reached her window—ajar, like a whisper begging to be heard—I didn't hesitate.
She was already asleep.
Or pretending to be.
The room was soaked in silver light. Her curtains danced like ghosts, and there she was—curled in the sheets, golden limbs tangled in cotton and moonlight.
I'd broken into vaults before.
But never something so holy.
She stirred as I stepped closer, her breath catching, eyes fluttering open.
"You're not real," she murmured, blinking up at me.
"Not tonight," I whispered. "Tonight, I'm the thing you dream about."
She sat up, sheets slipping from her shoulder, baring the elegant slope of her collarbone. Her pulse throbbed at her throat like a secret begging to be tasted.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, voice hoarse, broken from sleep.
"Haunting you," I said. "Like you haunt me."
I don't remember moving.
Just that I was suddenly at the edge of her bed, staring down at her like she was something divine and damned all at once.
I reached out, brushing her cheek with the back of my knuckles. She didn't pull away.
She never pulled away.
"You shouldn't be here," she whispered.
"No," I agreed. "But you want me here."
She swallowed. "You don't know what I want."
My lips curved, slow and dangerous.
"Don't I?"
And then I kissed her.
Not gently.
Not sweetly.
But like I was trying to erase every man who'd ever looked at her. Like I could bruise her mouth with my need and mark her with my hunger.
She kissed me back.
Teeth. Tongue. Desperation.
She moaned into my mouth, and it was the most beautiful fucking sound I'd ever heard.
I slid her onto her back, covering her body with mine. My hands roamed like they had every right—possessive, reverent, cruel.
But then I felt it.
A tremor. The slight recoil. The way her fingers hesitated at my waistband.
I paused, lifting my head just enough to see her eyes.
Wide.
Fractured.
Raw.
"Tell me," I said quietly.
Her lips parted.
"I've never done this," she said. "With anyone."
The words settled between us like a curse.
My body froze.
Not out of guilt.
Out of rage.
Not at her.
At the world.
At him—whoever had made her think she wasn't worthy of being touched like this. Of being worshipped.
I exhaled, slow and shaky.
"Do you trust me?" I asked, voice like velvet and knives.
She nodded.
"Then let me ruin you the right way."
And I did.
Slow.
Intense.
Every button undone like a prayer.
Every kiss a vow I never spoke aloud.
She trembled beneath me, but she didn't stop me.
She let me pull her apart with my hands, my mouth, my name on her tongue like a plea.
When I slid inside her, she gasped—eyes wide, hands gripping my arms like I was her last anchor to this world.
I held still, forehead pressed to hers.
"You're okay," I murmured. "I've got you."
She nodded, barely.
And then she moved.
Arching into me.
Claiming me.
Her breath hitched, pain and pleasure braided so tightly it was indistinguishable. I kissed the corner of her eye, where a tear threatened to fall.
"Mine," I whispered. "Every part of you."
And she let me take it.
Her body.
Her innocence.
Her trust.
And I gave her something, too.
My obsession.
My darkness.
Everything I'd never admit out loud.
When it was over, she was sprawled against me, head on my chest, fingers tracing old scars she didn't know the stories behind.
"I hate you," she whispered, voice sleepy and fragile.
"I know," I said, kissing her hair. "Hate me tomorrow."
Later that night I drove off to Oberoi's to have a friendly chat with Arjun
The pool steamed under moonlight, fog curling like smoke from a gun.
Arjun was already mid-lap when I arrived. He surfaced with a grin that said he knew exactly where I'd been.
"Well, well," he said. "Did you break her, or just bend her a little?"
I kicked off my shoes, letting them land beside his scotch.
"She let me in."
Arjun cocked a brow. "Did she let you out?"
I said nothing, just slipped into the water and let it burn the memory of her skin off mine.
But it didn't work.
She was still there.
In every breath.
Every heartbeat.
Every dark fucking corner of me.
"You're in deep," Arjun said.
I glanced over. "Deeper than she knows."
He laughed, soft and dangerous.
"Try not to drown."
I already had.
And the worst part?
I liked it