3

Naomi woke up from a poke on her naked butt. She turns around and sees Damon Cross sleeping naked beside her, his cock; semi-hard poking her butt.

He still wanted her.

And stupidly, she did too.

She looked at the wall clock in the hotel room, it was past 10PM.

Eric would be worried sick of her whereabouts.

Sighing, she tries to quietly get up from the bed, but she feels the poke again, and her core tingles with moist.

What the hell was wrong with her?

Was it because he had just given her the best sex she had ever had in her life?

Lustfully, she moves her butt closer until his cock slips into her ready moist core.

Damon woke up immediately with a groan, and soon he was thrusting slowly in and out of her again.

"You're so juicy, Naomi." he muttered.

Naomi replied with soft moans as he increased his thrusts pace.

Damon’s grip tightened on her waist as he thrust deeper, his breath hot against her neck. Naomi bit her lip, stifling a moan as pleasure rippled through her body. She knew this was wrong—knew she should have pulled away the moment she felt him against her.

But she didn’t.

Her body betrayed her, melting into his touch, craving more.

“Look at you,” Damon murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. “Already so ready for me.”

Naomi’s cheeks burned, but she couldn’t deny it. She had been aching for this the moment she felt him against her. Even when she had tried to leave, her body had made the choice for her.

His pace quickened, and Naomi clutched the sheets, her nails digging into the fabric as waves of pleasure crashed over her. Damon groaned against her shoulder, his hands roaming, claiming.

“You like this, don’t you?” he taunted, his voice dark and knowing. “Being taken like this.”

She wanted to deny it. Wanted to tell him this was nothing more than a transaction. But as his movements grew deeper, rougher, her soft moans were the only answer he needed.

Her walls clenched around him, and Damon let out a low growl, gripping her hip tightly as he pushed her over the edge. Naomi gasped, her back arching as pleasure consumed her, leaving her breathless and weak.

Damon followed moments later, his body tensing before he collapsed beside her, his breathing heavy.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Only the sound of their racing hearts and labored breaths filled the room.

Then reality crashed down on her.

Eric.

Naomi swallowed hard, her gaze darting to the clock again. It was even later now. Her phone was probably flooded with missed calls and texts.

Panic twisted in her gut.

She needed to leave.

Now.

She moved to sit up, but Damon’s arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her back against his chest.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he murmured sleepily, pressing a lazy kiss against her shoulder.

Naomi tensed. “I—I need to get home.”

Damon chuckled, the sound low and amused. “After all that, you’re still thinking about him?”

Her stomach clenched. “This was a deal, Damon,” she said, forcing her voice to stay steady. “It’s over.”

He hummed, dragging his fingers lightly down her spine. “Is it?”

Naomi’s breath caught as his touch sent a fresh wave of heat through her.

She hated how easily he unraveled her. Hated that she already knew the answer.

This wasn’t over.

Not even close.

But somehow she found the strength to move away and head home.

---

Naomi stood outside her apartment, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. The cool night air did nothing to steady the storm inside her. She had rehearsed this conversation a hundred times on the drive over, yet now, as she stared at the door, she felt like a liar before she’d even spoken a word.

Finally, she knocked.

A few seconds later, the door swung open. Eric stood there, his dark eyes scanning her face before softening with relief. "Naomi, thank God. I was getting worried."

She forced a smile, stepping inside. The familiar scent of coffee and warm spices wrapped around her, a stark contrast to the luxury of the hotel she had left hours ago.

"How did it go?" he asked, shutting the door behind her. "Did your boss help?"

Naomi hesitated, then nodded. "Yes. He—he gave me the money."

Eric exhaled sharply, his shoulders sagging with relief. "I knew it. I knew he’d come through. Naomi, this is amazing! We can finally breathe."

She swallowed hard. We. He kept saying we. As if they had fought this battle together. As if the price hadn’t been hers alone to pay.

"Yeah," she murmured, lowering herself onto the couch. "It’s over now."

Eric sat beside her, reaching for her hands. "What did he say? Was he hesitant? Did he make it difficult?"

Naomi’s pulse quickened. Say as little as possible. "Not really. He just… wanted to be sure I understood what I was asking for."

Eric frowned slightly. "You mean, like, he made you plead your case?"

"Something like that." She forced a small laugh. "Rich people love their theatrics, I guess."

He shook his head, squeezing her hands. "I hate that you had to go through that. But Naomi, you did it. You saved us."

The word saved made her stomach twist.

She had made a deal with the devil, and Eric was sitting here thinking she had walked into an office and simply asked for help.

She had done far worse than beg.

"Yeah," she whispered. "It’s done."

Eric pulled her into a hug, his embrace warm and familiar. Naomi closed her eyes, willing herself to let go of the guilt clawing at her insides.

She couldn’t tell him.

She wouldn’t.

Because if he knew the truth, he’d never look at her the same way again.