Aanya had never questioned herself so much while getting dressed.
Lipstick or no lipstick?
Hair up or wild?
Her fingers trembled slightly as she glanced at the clock.
8:57 p.m.
Her doorbell rang at exactly 9.
She opened it—and forgot how to breathe.
Riaan stood there. No suit. No tie. Just a black shirt, sleeves rolled, buttons teasingly undone, and those eyes—darker than ever.
He stepped inside without waiting for an invitation.She barely had time to close the door before he turned to her.
"I shouldn't be here," he murmured.
"But you are."
"I shouldn't touch you."
"Then don't."
A challenge.
He stepped closer.
And didn't stop.
When his hands finally cupped her face and his mouth crashed onto hers, it wasn't a kiss.It was a promise.
To ruin her.
To ruin them both.
She moaned into his mouth as he backed her against the wall, lifting her effortlessly, her legs wrapping around him as if her body had memorized him long ago.
"I've wanted this," he growled, trailing his lips down her neck. "Since the day you walked into my office."
"Then take it," she whispered, nails digging into his shoulders. "All of it."
He carried her to the couch — not gentle, not hesitant.Clothes were pushed aside, buttons popped, breaths shallow.
The way he touched her—firm, confident, needy—sent fire across her skin.
When he finally claimed her, it was with the desperation of a man who had held back too long.
And she welcomed him with the hunger of a woman who never wanted to stop.
No more boss. No more assistant.
Just two broken, beautiful things colliding in the dark.
And when it was over, long after the moans had faded into soft breaths—
He didn't speak.
But he didn't leave either.
He stayed.
And in the silence, with her body tangled in his, Aanya realized something terrifying.
She wasn't just falling for him.
She had already fallen.