Samantha woke up to the sight of Rexhard with a frown. She was in an unfamiliar room with an ambience which, while oddly comforting, wasn't particularly her style.
The walls were painted in matte black, subtly textured to catch minimal light. A single low-hanging pendant chandelier hung from the centre of the sleeping area, casting a glow over the sleek desk made of dark walnut. It looked intoxicating, save for a silver pen and a glass of aged whiskey lying there unbothered.
The floor was polished black hardwood, cool underfoot, with a gunmetal grey rug anchoring a leather armchair. The room was soundproofed, still, with the faint hum of an air vent the only noise. Hidden LED strip lights emitted a faint icy blue or blood-red hue from beneath the desk or wall edges, giving the room a faint presence.
Behind the desk stood a massive floor-to-ceiling window, blackout-blinded by default, overlooking the city skyline. The wall beside it featured a locked display of rare weapons.
The air smelled faintly of tobacco vanilla, rich, sweet, and dangerously seductive.
There was something about his room, and the man who sat grimacing at her, that made her skin flare with heat.
"Rexha…" Samantha began, about to ask how she had gotten into his room and why she felt so confused, but Rexhard wasn't having it.
He stood up and walked to the bed.
"I've had enough of your shenanigans, Samantha Delacroix." His tone now dropping into a whisper. "How dare another man lay his hands on you? Not only did I find him hugging you, but kissing you?"
"I.. he.." Samantha tried to explain, but to no avail.
He tugged on her hands, pulling her off the bed, her body heat entangling with his.
Rexhard's grip tightened at her wrist as his sight roamed over her body. Her shirt was out of place, her skirt ridden up, no shoes, and stockings scattered in his sight.
His hands snaked up to her neck as he leaned in to bite her shoulder. She had no bra on, and he could see her buds standing in full glory, peeking through her shirt. And she had let another man hold her? He tried to fight his anger, but just then he heard her whisper.
"Felix would never treat me this way…"
Rexhard's mind exploded. Was that the man who had held her the previous day? That ugly, dirty scumbag? What could that man possibly have that he didn't?
"What did you say??" Rexhard flared, his voice almost threatening.
And Samantha looked up, biting her lips, her eyes moist, her face red. She looked so delectable.
"I said, Felix would never treat me this way," she repeated, and she began pounding on his chest like a little girl.
Rexhard felt stifled. Just what the hell was going on?
She needs Felix… so why is she pulling on me? He wanted to get mad at her, but how could he possibly do that when she looked at him like that?
Goodness gracious.
The tension between them swelled, heavy and charged. His breath brushed against her cheek, hot and uneven. Samantha's pulse thundered in her ears, her body trembling under the pressure of his nearness. Her lips parted, but no words came out. She hated herself for craving him in this moment, for how her body betrayed her with every thrum of heat that coursed through her veins.
Rexhard lowered his face closer to hers, close enough that she could taste the faint whiskey on his breath. "Do you think of him when you're with me?" His voice was accusatory, yet desperate underneath, as if the answer mattered more than he'd ever want to admit.
Her chest rose and fell rapidly. She wanted to deny it, to throw the name back at him again, just to see him break, but she also wanted to surrender, to feel the way his presence devoured the air around her.
Instead, she whispered, "I don't know what I think anymore…"
His hand tightened around her waist, pulling her flush against him. The hardness of his body pressed into her. His jaw clenched as though every second he spent holding back was torture.
"You drive me insane, Samantha. You make me want to destroy you and worship you all at once."
Her nails dug lightly into his shirt, not pulling away but not pulling him closer either. The confusion in her heart tore at her, yet the raw ache in her body begged for something else entirely.
"Say you want me," he demanded, his voice low and rough.
Her lips trembled. "I want…" She stopped herself, breath hitching, unable to finish.
How could she say she wanted him and not him at the same time? And besides.. why wouldn't he know who Felix was?
He leaned in until their foreheads touched, his breath ragged, his restraint snapping strand by strand. "You'll drive me to hell, Samantha Delacroix."
Just then, Samantha felt the loosened hem of her shirt get stuck in her necklace, from the previous pounding she had done on Rexhard.
"I'll help you get it," Rexhard suddenly whispered into her ear, and a shiver ran down her spine.
She held her breath as his hands tried to untangle the locket from the rope. Every second suddenly felt like hours. She closed her eyes and savoured the feeling of his hands occasionally brushing against her overheated skin, while the edges of her mind danced. She imagined how Felix/Rexhard would kiss her fervently, his hands roaming all over her body, pinching her nipples, going beneath her and sucking on her pink buds until she moaned his name. And how he would whisper her name in her ear… and how she'd say his name softly and press his head against her tits, holding a fist full of his soft waves.
Samantha…
Just imagining it elicited a moan from her lips.
"Samantha!"
Her eyes snapped wide open, and she blinked twice. Rexhard was looking at her with slight anger in his eyes.
"Is there something you find unpleasant about me, Samantha? How dare you moan about a man called Felix in my presence? I'm trying so hard to restrain myself from throwing you into this bed and shoving the whole length of my dick inside your mouth so you'd never utter the name of another male in your life, ever."
And all Samantha did was moan, her fingers pressed against her lips, her restraint slipping with every second.
"Do it," she whispered.
"Fuck!"