One Sleepy Night

The city skyline glittered like a promise, a thousand golden lights reflecting off the rain-slick streets of Manhattan. The hum of late-night traffic mixed with the muffled beats of music from nearby clubs.

Aurora Sinclair had never been one for reckless decisions. She was the kind of woman who planned everything-her career, her future, every step carefully mapped out.

But tonight?

Tonight, she was making a mistake.

The kind that burned through reason, the kind that had her walking through the grand entrance of The Lexington Hotel with her pulse racing.

Because tonight, for the first time in her life, she didn't want to think.

Didn't want to be careful.

Didn't want to remember that in the morning, everything would go back to reality.

Her heels clicked against the marble floors as she stepped into the elevator, her reflection staring back at her in the gleaming gold doors. Her dark curls spilled over her shoulders, her crimson dress hugging her curves-more daring than anything she'd ever worn.

Her stomach twisted with nerves, but beneath it was something else.

Anticipation.

Because waiting for her upstairs was the man who had set this all into motion.

Damien Lexington.

The name alone carried weight. A billionaire. Heir to the Lexington empire. CEO of a corporate dynasty that shaped the skyline of New York.

She hadn't known who he was when they met at the bar earlier that night. She'd only known the magnetism. The way his piercing grey eyes had locked onto hers like a silent dare. The deep, velvety voice that had sent a shiver down her spine.

One drink had turned into two. A flirtatious challenge. A slow burn of tension that had crackled between them like a live wire.

And then his low, husky words:

"Come upstairs with me."

No promises. No expectations.

Just one night.

The elevator chimed, the doors gliding open to reveal the penthouse suite.

Her breath caught as she stepped inside.

Floor-to-ceiling windows stretched across the entire length of the room, offering a breathtaking view of the city. The decor was sleek, modern-black leather furniture, crystal decanters, warm golden lighting.

And in the center of it all, standing by the bar, was him.

Damien.

Tall, impossibly confident. A crisp black shirt stretched across broad shoulders, sleeves rolled up just enough to reveal strong forearms. His sharp features were unreadable, but his gaze?

It devoured her.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The tension between them was electric, heavy with unspoken intent.

Then, with a slow, deliberate movement, Damien set his glass down.

"You came," he murmured, his voice like smoke and whiskey.

Aurora's lips parted. "You expected me not to?"

A ghost of a smile touched his lips. "I wasn't sure."

She took a step forward, her pulse thrumming. "And now?"

His gaze darkened, a flicker of something dangerous and irresistible in his eyes.

"Now," he said, closing the distance between them, "I don't intend to waste a single second."

-

The night unraveled in a blur of heat and desperation, of whispered moans and tangled sheets.