Chapter 3 Lauren pov

Lauren Pov,

I nodded, definitely wowed–I guess he had seen me choke earlier, he was out of the dim light and before me stood a magnificent handsome man, his jawline was precise, his blue eyes tempting. I couldn't resist staring into them–I guess I regretted why I was already married.

He took my hand into his. His grip was firm, steady and confident in a way that made my body react before my mind could catch up. I felt the heat beneath my skin increase as my breath slowed.

Using the corner of my eye, I saw Vivian with her crazy smirk.

"I get it, I get it.... I'll get out of your hair," she teased, making an obscene gesture in the air, a little "crazy fuck" motion that send my cheeks burning red.

"You got this.." she whispered, winking before spinning around and disappearing into the crowd, leaving me all alone with this stranger.

I couldn't help it, but laughter bubbled out of my lips, spilling free as I could only recall Vivian's crazy expression before leaving. I clamped my lips shut, immediately I realized I was laughing so freely in front of a stranger.

"Don't stop–please" his voice cut through me like a soft flustered silk.

"Don't ever stop smiling," he said , his eyes locked on mine. "You are way more beautiful when you do."

I felt my heart thumping against my ribs. He wasn't just handsome –but his aura was something out of the ordinary, the kind of authority that filled the room without him trying.

"Is this your first time here?" He asked, I nodded as words weren't cropping up in my lips.

"I knew it... you don't belong here," he continued smoothly, tilting his head towards the crowded room.

"Shall we ditch this circus for somewhere more...fitting for a queen like yourself?"

I opened my mouth to protest, but it wasn't forthcoming. All my mind could think about were warnings.

Married women, don't go off with strange men, we don't feel sparks just from a stranger's voice, we don't lean closer just to breathe in his scent.–every word my mind had countered, I did it all–His scents were heavenly.

And here I was trying to say no–but my voice betrayed me.

"Where do you think is more fitting?" I blurtted.

He smiled faintly, as if he had already won. "You'll see."

--

The air shifted, the moment we both stepped into a private dining hall. Everything was brighter, more quiet and refined. The crystal chandeliers glittered overhead, as soft jazz hummed in the background.

The door man bowed the moment we stepped in, hurrying us past other waiting guests with a whispered apology.

His hands clutched against mine as we walked side by side, I couldn't help it but a faint smile plastered over my cheeks. My eyes widened from the way the staff worshipped him. This wasn't just any man. This was someone of status, power. He was respected differently–making it obvious he lived in a world far higher from mine.

He guided me into a gold chair, his hands lingered long enough on my back-making me shiver.

"Relax," He whispered close to my ears–this wasn't helping, but it was a command and comfort at the same time.

The dinner arrived in courses I could barely remember – there were delicate plates of seafood, fine wines, poured endlessly into my glass.

He asked some questions, not the shallow kind , but piercing ones that stripped me off of my defenses:"What do you desire?" Do you feel free? What were my fantasies?"

I answered all expressing myself like I had never before, my laughter came easy with every sip of wine. The heat in my belly had nothing to do with the alcohol–I was horny just from staring at him in his deep blue eyes.

At some point, I realized I was leaning across the table, closer to him than I should have been. His gaze lingered on my lips as the spark burned in between us until I could no longer resist it.

I leaned in, dizzy with wine and urge, I pressed my lips over his.

His hands brought me to a pause, as his firm fingers caught up my chin–my mind was racing, was I wrong to start first?

He held me in place just at a shy distance and his eyes locked unto mine– filled with dark intent.

I thought I was getting pushed away, but instead his lips curved into a faint smile, like he had just confirmed something he had been expecting.

Without another word, he rose to his feet and lifted me effortlessly out of my chair. The waiters pretended not to notice as he carried me through the quiet hall, out into the night.

--

He didn't call a taxi, he had a driver waiting outside for him, I was too drunk to access the car. The car door shut with a soft thud, as the driver took to the road.

Silence hung in the air for a single charged second. Just then I felt his hands trace up on my laps, I wanted to stop him–but I didn't. I tried imagining my husband in the process trying to help ease my guilt, but it didn't.

His lips claimed mine with an hunger that made me gasp for air. He traced my body like he owned it, like it had always belonged to him.

My last thoughts were coherent–I wanted to stop his hands from tracing up on my laps‐to say it was wrong.. that I was married.

But the moment his hands parted my laps and his fingers touched up on my already pulsating clitoris–I realised I didn't care, his fingers slipped underneath my wet panties–sliding across my already wet cheeks. I felt the shiver down my spine as he penetrated me with his fingers.

I let out a soft moan underneath his lips– and for the first time in years, I felt alive.

I should have been ashamed. Instead I was begging the universe to let this stranger ruin me.