a love recipe at the gourmet hotel dailymotion

"I'm married."

In the darkness, Cathryn Moore felt her back slam into the door, her breath knocked out as a tall man loomed over her. Heat radiated from him, his breath brushing against her neck until she shivered uncontrollably.

Fingers like a vice clamped around her waist, holding her in place. He gave a low, derisive laugh. "Married, huh? Still lurking around in a hotel alone in the middle of the night? Does your husband know what you're really doing?"

Pain stabbed through Cathryn's chest. Barely an hour earlier, a video had arrived on her phone—her husband, Liam Watson, sprawled in bed with Jordyn Moore, her own half-sister, the two of them entwined, not an ounce of guilt between them.

Driven by desperation, Cathryn had stormed into the hotel to catch them red-handed. But before she even found the right room, this unfamiliar man had dragged her into this very room.

"Since you're already here, drop the act," the man murmured, carrying her on his shoulder roughly and tossing her onto the bed. He yanked off his tie with one swift motion and then pinned her wrists high above her head. His mouth crashed down on hers, hard and unrelenting.

"Since you claimed that you're married, you must know how this goes," he taunted, ripping her clothes apart piece by piece.

Cathryn struggled in vain. "I haven't..." Her lips parted, only for the words to wither before they left her mouth. Three years chained to a husband, and she was still a virgin. Who the hell would believe that?

The video of Liam and Jordyn replayed in her head. Heat flooded her chest—fury, raw and scorching. Her struggle ceased.

Then, the man thrust into her ruthlessly. Pain ripped through her body, sharp and merciless, as if her bones might snap. She bit down hard enough to taste blood, the metallic tang flooding her mouth.

The first time she had held onto was torn from her with brutal recklessness—by a man whose face she hadn't even made out in the darkness.

...

Morning light crept across the room, and the buzzing of her phone dragged Cathryn from sleep. She fumbled for it, answering groggily.

"Ms. Moore, Olekgan Hospital here. It's urgent—please get here quickly. It concerns your mother."

From the bed behind her came that deep, mocking drawl. "Was that your husband checking in on you?"

Cathryn scrambled to gather her scattered clothes, slipping them on with frantic hands. Her face stayed downcast as she muttered under her breath, "Let's pretend last night never happened."

To her, the reckless encounter had been nothing more than revenge for Liam's betrayal.

The man sat half-naked on the edge of the bed, his mouth curling into a sneer. "You're even more promiscuous than I thought."

His disdain toward her was unmistakable. Married, but still screwing like a slut—and now she wanted to act like none of their encounters ever went down?

Cathryn refused to give him the satisfaction of a reply. Every thought was consumed by her mother. Without sparing him so much as a glance, she stormed out of the room.

Moments later, a hesitant knock sounded. "Mr. Brooks," someone called softly as they stepped inside.

Andrew Brooks pressed his fingers to his throbbing temple, last night's alcohol still pounding in his skull. "Was this my grandma's doing?"

Karl Bennett, his assistant, nodded quickly, visibly shrinking under Andrew's sharp stare.

Andrew furrowed his brows. So it had been his grandmother, Amanda Brooks, who had sent that woman into his bed. A wave of frustration hit him. He was the head of the most formidable financial empire in the city of Olekgan. And he controlled the largest publicly traded company in this country, Antaford. Yet, he had just lost his virginity to a married woman.

As he reflected on last night, his irritation flared up. Throughout the night, no matter how rough he had been, she hadn't uttered a sound. He'd assumed it meant experience—far too much of it. The way she'd looked just now, calm and indifferent, had sealed his judgment—she was the sort who used men and walked away without a second thought.

Andrew couldn't fathom where his grandmother had found a woman like that for him, or why his grandmother had chosen to push her into his bed. If it hadn't been for the haze of alcohol, he would never have touched her.