Elara opened the door to the room as the attendant handed over fresh towels and a small tray of supplements. She thanked her and closed the door behind her, dropping onto the sofa with her back to the entrance. A disk spun soft music across the room. she poured a glass of wine and let the melody wash over her.
After a few minutes, she stood and began to sway to the song. She stumbled, and two strong arms caught her before she hit the floor. For a second, the world tilted and her breath left her; when she found her footing, she turned.
"Seriously? You got a spare key for this room?" Maxwell stood there in loose pajamas, half-smile in place.
"You got that part right." He watched her, his dark eyes suddenly alive. "I didn't know you could be this seductive. I could have joked that I was drunk the last time, I was, but I'm not drunk now, and I can't help it."
"You shouldn't be here." Her voice was steady but thin.
"We have to talk." He said it like a command, though his eyes kept tracing the line of her gown. Elara folded, no amount of force would send him out tonight. She poured him a glass of wine and sat, defeated.
"What are we supposed to talk about then?" she asked, handing him the glass.
"Us." He sipped, lips wet, and studied her. The wetness on his lips made her stare or a longer bit, tempting. She unconsciously licked her lips. He paused, his gaze softening.
Elara snapped.
"There is no us," she said bluntly. "You're engaged to my boss's sister. You should marry Bianca. You two are perfect together." She meant it, and she hoped he would take the advice.
"Nice observation." He drained his glass and set it down. "But I can't stop myself around you. I can't. especially my mini me…" His voice was rough in a way that made her pulse quicken.
"Then stop being around me," she snapped.
"I can't, can I? the company you work or just banged a contract that will seem to tie us together." He said sharply. "and soon, you'll be a common visitor in my office."
"Max…" her voice was so low.
He leaned closer until she could see the tiny flecks of light in his eyes. For a moment she forgot everything else, his proximity, the risk, the memory of Charles. He kissed her. It wasn't tentative. It was immediate and deep, his hands settling at her waist, pulling her in. Heat rose through her and resistance softened.
This time she was present. She felt every movement, every shift. The gown slipped, skin met skin. He lifted her as if she weighed nothing, carried her to the bed, and laid her gently down. His touch was intent but careful, she answered him, not as a stranger but as someone who remembered.
They moved together with a fierce, honest need, less chaos than the first time, more aware of what they were doing. The room filled with the sound of two people colliding and finding each other. She felt Her body heated, her mind went fuzzy and her eyes blurred, the only attention was on him.
Her hands slid from the gown, and flesh collided with flesh. The temperature became unbearable, and she found herself moaning in his ears.
"I want you…"
"I want to you… every inch of you…" he leaned over to her, sniffing her scent.
She voluntarily patted her legs for him. And this time, he went, slow, carefully and devouring the feeling. She held her breath beneath him, as her hand traced his abs before sliding to his back, sending a tickling sensation and made him thrust deeper and faster.
The sound of wet flesh clapping filled the room, the sound of their own moans, breath that escaped through a series of kisses. She curled her legs around him, holding tightly as everything melted away, pleasure taking the better part of her brain.
"Max…"
"Elara… I can't … control myself around, anymore…" his voice was hoarse and sexy. His hands were gently with her nipples, his sweat dropped on her. And instead of feeling disgusted, she wanted him more.
The core around her waist tightened, and then busted in a wave of pleasure, sending her body into a wave of spasm as she trembled beneath him, her feet curling lightly, her breath at par. Their scent filled the room, and their warm liquid slid down her thighs to the white sheets.
This was the second time they were making out, this time, he was no longer a stranger, but someone she knew from that night.
Afterward they lay tangled and quiet for a long time. When Elara finally sat up at the edge of the bed, the reality of what had happened crept back in.
"This shouldn't be happening," she said.
"Why not?" Maxwell sat beside her, voice soft. "We're both adults."
"You have a fiancée," she said. "And I... I lost Charles months ago. I can't..."
"From that night I've been searching for you," he interrupted. "It was you. I couldn't let it go. I can't calm down around you anymore." His words were steady, raw.
"Elara, let me marry you." The sentence came as if he'd been rehearsing it in private, and the room held its breath.
She stared at him, incapable of speaking at first. It was absurd. It was impossible.
"Are you out of your mind?" Elara stopped and looked at him. "That… can't happen. You belong to…"
"I choose what I want for myself." He said seriously. "We can announce this relationship, and get married as soon as possible…"
"Relationship?" Elara turned to looked at him in shock. She wouldn't believe a CEO would go that fast with her. She was just a simple worker at the Monroe, and Bianca was a whole world class lady. He couldn't seriously throw that away, right?
Maxwell reached for her, and for a long moment Elara let herself be held. There was a strange, tender logic to it. he had found her once and wanted to bind the discovery into something permanent. But everything that mattered to her was wrapped up in complications she could not untangle with a vow.
"Mr. Ranveer, no," she said finally, voice steady despite the tremor inside.