Shane didn't work that day.
She told herself she had meetings to review, acquisitions to consider, stocks to move—but the truth was, she couldn't focus on a damn thing. Her body still ached in the best way, every nerve humming with memory. Every touch from last night branded into her skin like a secret she couldn't scrub away.
May was still in her penthouse.
That alone drove her mad.
She didn't like people in her space. She didn't let them linger. But May was a storm she hadn't planned for—wild, unrelenting, and maddeningly calm at the eye of it.
Shane stood in front of the mirror in her walk-in closet, towel wrapped low on her hips. Her skin was still damp from the shower, hair clinging to her neck, but her eyes—her eyes gave her away. Dark with something that looked too much like hunger.
She didn't do second rounds.
Didn't do breakfast, cuddles, soft mornings.
But now she found herself walking barefoot down the hall, pulse climbing with each step.
The door to her guest room—no, her room now—was cracked. She pushed it open gently.
May was stretched across the bed in nothing but Shane's black silk robe, one leg peeking out, hair tousled, lips parted from sleep. The early light kissed her skin like it belonged there.
Shane's throat dried.
She watched May for a beat too long.
Then May stirred, lashes fluttering open like a scene out of some fantasy Shane never let herself have.
"You're watching me," May said, voice thick with sleep and satisfaction.
"You're in my bed," Shane replied coolly, leaning on the doorframe.
May smirked. "Didn't hear you complain last night."
Shane walked in slowly, predatory, every step controlled. Her eyes never left May's. "You're not supposed to still be here."
May stretched, arching slightly, the robe slipping down one shoulder. "And yet… here I am."
The silence that followed was electric.
Shane crossed the room and climbed onto the bed without asking. She knelt over May, one hand on either side of her head, gaze hard.
"I should tell you to leave."
"You should."
"But I won't."
May reached up, brushing a wet strand of Shane's hair behind her ear. "Why not?"
"Because I want you again," Shane said simply. "Right now. Just like this."
May's breath caught—but she didn't break eye contact. "Then take me."
And Shane did.
She didn't waste time. Her hands went to the knot of the robe, undoing it slowly, unwrapping May like a gift she'd already claimed once—but now wanted to own. Her lips trailed down May's chest, tongue circling each nipple before she sucked it softly, teasingly, listening to the sharp inhale it pulled.
May tangled her fingers in Shane's hair, but Shane gripped her wrists and pinned them above her head.
"No touching," she whispered against her skin. "Not this time."
May's body shuddered under her, eyes wide with anticipation.
Shane kissed lower—stomach, hips, inner thighs—ignoring the place May wanted her most. She liked watching her squirm. Liked hearing those soft, frustrated whimpers. It made her feel powerful—but also something else.
Wanted.
Craved.
Needed in a way she hadn't been in years.
When she finally dipped her head and gave May what she needed, it was slow, almost torturous. Her tongue moved in firm, deliberate strokes. She tasted her like she needed to memorize everything. The way May moaned, the way her back arched, the way she gasped Shane's name like it meant something more than just a sound in the dark.
May came hard, shaking, eyes locked on Shane the whole time.
And Shane didn't stop.
She gave her another.
And another.
Until May was wrecked—sweat-slicked, trembling, completely undone.
Then Shane climbed up her body, kissed her mouth deeply, and whispered, "Still think you're in control?"
May pulled her close, still breathless. "No. I think I'm addicted."
Shane froze for a beat.
Because the word hit too close to something real.
She rolled off her, laying back on the bed, staring at the ceiling like it might offer answers. Her chest rose and fell too fast. Her heart thudded too loud.
May turned on her side, watching her quietly.
"You feel it too, don't you?" she asked softly.
Shane didn't respond.
"Tell me," May whispered. "Tell me this isn't just a game anymore."
Shane's voice was rough when she finally spoke. "I don't do feelings, May. I don't know how."
May smiled faintly. "Good thing I do."
She leaned over and kissed Shane's shoulder. "You just have to let yourself fall. I'll catch you."
Shane didn't move.
Didn't speak.
But her hand found May's under the covers. Fingers twining.
And for once… she didn't let go.