After the One night stand with the billionaire

Anora's POV

The day finally wound down, and I stuffed my things into my bag with sluggish movements. My shoulders sagged as if carrying bricks, and all I could think about was collapsing into bed. Sleep. That was all I wanted.

"Going home already?" Lizzy, my colleague, stepped into my path, her brows arched in mock suspicion just as I reached for my handbag.

I curved my lips into a tired smile. "Yeap."

She fell into step beside me as we walked toward the door. "So, straight home? Not even a quick stop at the grocery?" Her voice carried that lilt she always had when she wanted something but didn't want to say it outright.

Her words made me pause. The grocery. Of course. I had promised Bruce.

Bruce was my first everything. My first boyfriend, my college sweetheart and the boy who stood outside lecture halls with coffee in hand and a grin that made exam weeks almost bearable. He was there when I lost my parents, steady and unshakable, offering comfort in every way he could. I loved him fiercely, with the kind of devotion that felt unbreakable. After graduation, he slipped effortlessly into a stable job, while I stumbled through rejection after rejection-until I finally found myself working at the bakery.

I shook my head with a small laugh. "Thanks, Lizzy, but I'll just head home." I lied. I knew Lizzy too well. If she knew I was going to the grocery store, she'd cling onto me like a chewing gum stuck into my hair until I went home.

She didn't press further, only nodded and turned back inside, leaving me to the evening air.

I dug into my bag for my phone and pressed his number. The line clicked once, then fell into that familiar message.

"Hey, this is Bruce. Leave a message... or don't."

I hesitated, chewing the inside of my cheek before speaking. "Hi, babe. I'm done with work for the day, so I'll stop by and bring a few things for you. Call me when you get this. Love you."

The words hung in the air for a moment before I thumbed the call off and slid into my car. The engine coughed before catching, a harsh reminder that it wouldn't survive much longer without repairs.

I drove to the mall, the fluorescent lights stinging my tired eyes as I gathered what he needed, then headed straight to his house.

When I pulled up, the house sat in quiet stillness. The porch light hummed, spilling a thin, pale glow across the steps. Switching off the ignition, I climbed out slowly, keys clinking faintly in my hand.

I reached for the door handle. My fingers curled around the cool metal, ready to twist it open and then I froze.

Something on the other side made my breath hitch in my throat.

It was a sound.

A sound that didn't belong here.

"Ahhh... baby... harder."

The words slipped through the thin crack of the door, low and breathless. My stomach clenched. The voice was too familiar. It was Debbie, my best friend.

Before I could even process that, another voice joined hers, deep and ragged, dripping with pleasure.

"You're fire... ahhh..."

The second voice belonged to Bruce.

The name screamed inside my head even before I admitted it to myself.

Heat shot up my spine. My hands curled into fists, nails biting into my palms. My skin prickled, my pulse thundering so loud it drowned out everything else.

Then it came again, the sharp, wet rhythm of skin against skin.

My stomach lurched. My grip on the handle trembled. For half a minute, I couldn't move, couldn't breathe. My knees locked, my heart slammed against my ribs as if it wanted out.

Another moan tore through the silence, and the thin thread holding me together snapped.

I shoved the door open. They were in such a hurry they had even forgotten to lock the door.

And the world I thought I knew collapsed in front of me.

Debbie arched on the couch, her hips tilted high, her head buried in the cushions. The sharp slap of skin meeting skin filled the room, mingling with her breathless moans.

"Bruce..." she whimpered, his name breaking on her lips.

His body moved with a ferocity I had never known. His groans were ragged, as though every thrust wrung pleasure from him he'd never found in me. His eyes fluttered half-shut, glazed in the kind of bliss I once thought was mine alone.

They were naked and tangled in a rhythm that should have belonged to us.

And he didn't even see me.

I stood at the doorway, my chest rising but refusing to fall. My lungs were strangled by the heavy stench of sweat and betrayal.

"Bruce!" My voice cracked, louder than I intended, splintering the air.

His head snapped toward me. In an instant, the color bled from his face, leaving him pale as if I'd ripped the ground from beneath him.

Debbie yelped and stumbled for the nearest pillow, clutching it to her bare chest like it could erase what I'd seen. "A-Anora-"

Too late.

The image was seared into me. Their flushed skin, the raw heat between them, the utter lack of shame buried in my memory.

I swallowed hard against the burn in my throat. "Don't stop on my account," I said, my voice cool, though it trembled at the edges. "I wouldn't want to ruin the show."

I turned and walked out like someone who had just been poured cold water. I needed to get the hell out of there.

I didn't want to let them see me break. But how can I keep my emotions bottled in when the people I trusted the most betrayed me in such a cruel way?

The tears I'd fought so hard to hold back broke free, warm tracks spilling down my cheeks as they blurred my vision. Disappointment gnawed at my chest, sharp and bitter. I hated myself for trusting them. Both of them.

Voices chased me. My name, half-formed excuses, pitiful apologies but they slid right past my ears. Each word felt miles away.

My heels struck the floor in sharp, furious beats. The front door slammed behind me, a sound so final it almost hurt.

I hit the car, yanked the door open, and dropped into the driver's seat. My fists pounded the steering wheel. I screamed until my throat burned, every curse I knew spilling out between ragged breaths. Hot tears blurred the world, turning it into nothing but color and pain.

A shadow moved. It was Bruce.

He was coming toward my car, mouth moving. Maybe he was calling my name. Maybe another excuse. I didn't care enough to find out.

The engine roared to life under my hands. I slammed my foot on the gas. The tires shrieked against the pavement as I shot forward. He leapt aside just in time.

Good.

I didn't look back. I didn't even know where I was going. The streets blurred into dark ribbons, carrying me away from the house, from them, from the splintered pieces of my life.

By the time I pulled over, the night had swallowed the sky. A lone streetlamp flickered overhead, throwing crooked shadows across the road.

A small bar sat tucked between shuttered shops, its neon sign buzzing faintly.

Perfect.

I wiped my face with shaking hands, smearing mascara I didn't care about, and walked inside. The smell of beer and faint cigarette smoke wrapped around me.

I slid onto a barstool. "One beer," I said, voice hoarse. "Something strong."

Drinking wasn't me. Not really. But tonight wasn't about being me-it was about shutting everything off.

My phone buzzed on the counter. Then again. And again.

I flipped it over. Bruce and Debbie's names lit the screen in alternating flashes. I let the missed calls and texts pile up until the notifications blurred into one big, desperate mess.

I left the phone facedown and took a long, cold sip. The bitterness slid down my throat, heavy enough to press against the ache in my chest.

The buzzing started again. I knew it was Bruce still calling.

I shouldn't answer. But some pathetic, splintered part of me still craved... something. A part of me still needed to hear him out. But what would he say now that would sound convincing after I had seen everything with my own eyes?

I picked it up.

"Babe... please, can we talk?" His voice was low and pleading. "I can explain."

A bitter laugh escaped me. "What could you possibly have to say?"

"Just... let's meet up. I didn't-"

"Get lost, Bruce," I cut in, every word sharp enough to draw blood. "You cheating bastard. I can't believe I gave my heart to someone like you. You're disgusting."

"Anora, please-"

"I hope she was worth it," I hissed. "I hope screwing my best friend was worth losing me."

I ended the call before his reply could poison the air. The phone clattered onto the counter. My hands shook.

I raised a hand to the bartender. "Another. Stronger."

I wanted to drown in anything but my own thoughts.

That's when a smooth, masculine voice brushed against my ear.

"Don't you think that's a little much for a pretty girl like you?"

Anora's POV

"What the hell is-" The words died halfway in my throat the moment I turned and met his eyes.

God.

He looked like someone carved him out of marble and then decided to give him a heartbeat just to torture the rest of us. Honey brown eyes which were bright, sharp, and way too piercing, held mine like they had every right to. His lips curved in the faintest smile, perfectly shaped, dangerous in the way they almost begged for attention. Even his hair, dark brown and swept neatly back, looked like it belonged in an expensive magazine spread.

And he wasn't even dressed up. Just a pale blue shirt, sleeves casually rolled, and dark jeans. Simple, yet on him, it looked like royalty had decided to slum it for the night.

"You've had enough, miss." His voice was low and smooth, confident without even trying. He reached over and slid the beer from my hand, setting it back on the table like it was the easiest thing in the world.

I should've snapped at him. I should've said something smart. Instead, my tongue felt glued to the roof of my mouth. All I could think was breathtaking.

"Uh... hi," I stammered, heat rushing to my cheeks. Perfect. I never stutter, but apparently this stranger came with built-in chaos.

His smile deepened, like he found my embarrassment amusing. And then-without hesitation-he took my drink and tipped it back, swallowing a huge gulp like it was his.

I blinked at him, but no words came out. For some reason, I just let him.

"What's a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this?" he asked, settling into the stool beside me as if the seat had always been waiting for him. His gaze didn't leave mine, curious, amused, like he was trying to figure me out.

"Oh, well," I managed, leaning back and crossing my arms. "I can do whatever I want, right?"

That earned me another smile, lazy and knowing. He raised a hand and signaled the bartender for his own glass of beer, like he was planning on staying a while.

The bartender slid the glass across the counter, and he caught it with the kind of ease that said this wasn't his first time. My eyes followed the way his wrist flexed as he lifted the glass, veins faintly shifting under his skin. I hated to admit it, but it looked... ridiculously attractive.

"So," he leaned in slightly after a gulp, his voice low and steady. "Do you always drink alone, or is tonight... special?"

I chuckled and immediately let out the loudest hiccup-gulp. My eyes widened, and I slapped a hand over my face in shame.

He laughed, a smooth, deep sound, then quickly shook his head. "Sorry. I didn't mean-"

I waved it off, cheeks still burning. "Don't worry, I'm used to embarrassing myself."

He grinned, and for some reason that made me relax enough to keep talking.

"Well," I sighed, twirling the rim of my glass. "Tonight's basically the worst."

"Really?" His brows lifted slightly, like he didn't quite believe me.

"Why?" he pressed.

I arched my brow, trying to gather myself. "Do you always ask strangers questions they don't actually want to answer?"

That made him chuckle, quiet but rich. He swirled his drink lazily before taking another sip, eyes fixed on me the entire time.

"Oh, I want the answer," he said, his voice dipping just enough to make my stomach flutter. "Trust me."

Something about his tone disarmed me. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was just him. Either way, I found myself spilling words I hadn't meant to.

"I caught my boyfriend cheating on me," I muttered, my throat tightening, "with my best friend."

His glass paused halfway to his lips. "Oh my," he said softly, like the words genuinely landed. Then he leaned back, eyes thoughtful. "Heartbreaks are an everyday thing."

There was a weight to the way he said it, like he knew exactly what it felt like. For him to sound so sure, he must have lived through more than a few himself. My chest ached a little at the thought.

I forced a crooked smile. "You must be the head secretary of the heartbreak committee."

He smirked, lifted his glass, and tapped it against mine before taking another sip.

I tried to look away to the bottles lined up on the shelves, to the neon lights flickering above the bar but it was useless. His presence tugged at me like gravity, pulling my gaze back every time. His eyes had a kind of pull that was magnetic and impossible to ignore.

"You didn't tell me your name," he said finally.

"Anora," I replied before I could stop myself.

He repeated it under his breath, slow, like he was tasting it. Then he leaned back, relaxed but sharp-eyed. "Sebastian."

Sebastian. The name fit him perfectly. Strong, smooth, dangerous in a way that made my pulse race.

I smirked, pretending I wasn't impressed. "Well, Seb, if you don't mind me calling you that, what brings you here?'

He chuckled, taking a slow sip before answering. "Sometimes I get bored after work. And this place... keeps me entertained."

Something in the way he said it made my skin prickle. His words slid under my skin, and suddenly the air between us shifted. It suddenly felt heavier and charged.

I couldn't tell if it was the alcohol, his husky voice, or the way he looked at me like I was the only person in the room. But for the first time in forever, I forgot how to keep my walls up.

"Do you mind if I drop you home?" he asked, draining the last of his glass.

"Nah." I shook my head, my words slurred just a little. "I wanna stay here till morning. There's... someone I don't wanna see at home."

"Who?" His tone was curious, but there was something softer behind it.

"Loneliness," I muttered, letting out a dry laugh.

He didn't laugh. He just looked at me, eyes holding that same flicker of concern I wasn't ready to admit I liked.

Then, without warning, he reached for my hand. His touch was warm, soft, and it sent a shiver racing down my spine.

"Come with me," he said.

My breath caught. "Where?" I asked, but I was already sliding off the stool, following him.

"Just come," he said, his voice steady, certain, pulling me along like I didn't even need an answer.

Anora's POV

The night air hit me as we stepped out of the bar together. A couple of women leaning by the corner shifted their gaze to him, whispering like they knew him, or at least thought they did. I tried not to care. My head was still foggy, my heart still heavy, so I just kept walking, following his lead.

A few steps away, we stopped in front of a sleek, black Bentley. My jaw nearly dropped. The thing practically gleamed under the streetlight, polished like it had never seen a speck of dust in its life.

"Is this your car? Or did you steal it?" I blurted, words slipping out before I could stop them.

He didn't even flinch. Just smiled faintly as he opened the passenger door for me. Not a word.

I slid in, sinking into leather so soft it practically swallowed me whole. Everything about the car screamed money. He slipped into the driver's seat, started the engine, and the low, smooth purr of it only added to the mystery.

"What makes you think I stole it?" he finally asked, eyes steady on the road as we pulled away.

"I dunno." I shrugged, trying to sound casual. "Guess it just doesn't fit you."

He didn't answer, and the silence that followed made me instantly regret opening my mouth. Great. Big mouth: 1, Anora: 0.

The city lights blurred past the window. Neither of us spoke. For a while, all I could hear was the quiet hum of the engine and my own restless thoughts.

Then, he pulled into a driveway that made me sit up straight. Bright golden lights lined the entrance of C5 Hotel and Suites. I knew this place. Everyone did. It wasn't just expensive. It was the kind of place reserved for CEOs, celebrities, and people with bank accounts fat enough to laugh at numbers.

My mouth went dry. "What are we doing here?"

"Since you can't go home," he said smoothly, "you'll spend the night here."

I laughed out loud, the sound sharp and disbelieving. "Yeah, right. Here? Are you serious?"

But then he steered the Bentley straight under the grand awning, and the valet attendants were already stepping forward like they knew him. My laugh died in my throat.

"You're not joking." My voice cracked, surprised. "Wait. Who's gonna pay for this?"

He cut the engine and finally turned to me, calm as ever. "If I wasn't going to pay, I wouldn't have brought you here."

I blinked at him, speechless, my mind racing.

"Wait here," he said simply, stepping out of the car like he belonged in this world of revolving doors and chandeliers.

And just like that, he left me sitting there in his Bentley, staring after him, wondering who the hell this man really was.

After a few minutes, he came back out and pulled the car door open like I was some kind of princess.

"Follow me," he said, his voice calm but commanding.

I slipped out, adjusting the strap of my bag, and trailed behind him. The hotel towered above with an intimidating grace, but the moment I stepped inside, my breath caught.

The lobby glowed. A massive chandelier dripped light from the ceiling, scattering diamonds across the polished marble floor. The walls gleamed like glass, reflecting every sparkle, every movement.

I became hyperaware of the stares. Guests paused mid-conversation, the receptionist's hand froze above the register, even the bodyguards near the entrance tilted their heads toward us. My pulse stumbled, but I straightened my shoulders, lifting my chin the way my mother used to remind me-walk like you belong anywhere. My flats tapped softly against the marble as I followed in his shadow, steady and composed, even if my stomach knotted with nerves.

He led us to a private elevator, sliding the card effortlessly before stepping in. I joined him, the quiet hum of the ascent filling the silence between us.

When the doors parted, we stepped into a corridor that seemed worlds away from the bustle below. At the end a tall glass door waited. He swiped another card, and it opened with a soft click.

Inside, the air changed. The space felt less like a hotel room and more like a palace. White and gold swept across the room in a dance of elegance. Arched ceilings, velvet drapes, and furniture that looked untouched, like it belonged in a royal gallery. My eyes wandered greedily over every detail, unable to stop drinking it all in.

Still staring, I turned to take in the full picture of the room when my gaze caught on him. He stood off to the side, watching me quietly. Heat crept up my neck. I should've acted like I belonged here, but the truth was I didn't.

"I want you to feel comfortable," he said, stepping forward. His voice was steady, almost reassuring. Then, with a gentleness that made my chest tighten, he slipped something into my hand. The card key to the room.

For a second, I wanted to keep my hand in his, but he pulled away too soon. A small smile curved his lips as he leaned closer, so close I could hear the even rhythm of his breathing. "Goodnight, Anora."

Our eyes locked and held, as if neither of us wanted to be the one to break it. My pulse hammered in my ears. Something unspoken hummed between us, tugging me closer. His gaze dropped, lingering on my mouth. The corner of his lips twitched into a smirk before he drew back. But I couldn't let him go.

The need was sudden and fierce. I grabbed his shirt and pulled him to me, pressing my lips against his. The kiss was hungry, desperate, like I'd been waiting for this moment all my life.

I braced for him to pull away, but instead, his arm slid firmly around my waist, drawing me against him as if he couldn't hold back anymore. His lips pressed harder against mine, deeper, hungrier, like he'd been waiting for me to be the one to start this.

The heat of him seeped into me, and the more our mouths moved together, the more I craved. I wanted all of him.

It seemed I wasn't alone. In one smooth, deliberate motion, he slid my dress upward, eyes locked on mine as he peeled it off my body and tossed it carelessly across the room.

I stood fully bare before him, and the way his gaze roamed over me, slow, dark, possessive, made my skin burn.

Then, he lifted me effortlessly, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. His size made me feel small, fragile even, yet completely consumed in his hold. He carried me to the bed and laid me down with surprising gentleness, as though I might break

"If I kiss you again," he said, pulling back and staring at me like he wasn't sure. "I won't be able to stop."

I didn't hesitate.

I reached for him, tangled my fingers in his hair, and pulled him back down to me.

"Then don't stop," I whispered against his lips.

And this time, I kissed him deeper and harder, letting him feel just how much I wanted him.

His lips trailed down my neck, igniting a path of fire as he reached my breast. My nipples, already hardened with desire, brushed against his mouth. He circled one with his tongue before closing his lips around it, sucking gently and deeply, like he was trying to pull the breath from my lungs.

A soft moan escaped me as his hand wandered to the other, teasing, flicking and building the tension inside me until my back arched in need. Slowly, he moved lower, trailing down my trembling stomach, until his fingers brushed between my thighs.

He parted my legs even more as he rubbed my folds with my wetness. I moaned his name lightly and without hesitation, he slid his finger into my entrance.

"F**k". He said, his voice was a low growl "you're so ready for me." His mouth returned to my nipple, hot and hungry.

He bit my nipple gently as his finger pumped into me slowly at first then faster until I was moaning uncontrollably.

"Ahhh....uhhh...yes." I cried, gripping the sheets and biting back cries of pleasure I could no longer contain.

Then, he took out his hand and licked my wetness that had covered his index, pinky finger and thumb.

He trailed his tongue down my stomach until he got to my p***y. Staring at my face, he wrapped his hand around my hip and dragged me closer until his tongue licked my slick folds. His tongue was hot against me, savouring every taste like a man starved for pleasure.

"I like the way you taste." He said as he thrust his tongue deep into my entrance and I arched on the bed, throwing my head backward but he pulled me down. I tangled my hand in his hair, holding him closer and needing more as he drove his tongue in and out until my legs trembled.

"Seb...ahh..am going to explode."I cried out as the wave hit me.

"Yes baby. Cum for me."

I moaned loudly as my orgasm exploded in his mouth, my body trembling violently beneath him but he didn't stop. He held me firm, sucking everything that spilled from my sex.

He didn't stop for several long, aching minutes, letting me ride out the waves of pleasure as stars burst behind my closed eyelids.

When I finally came down from my high, he noticed it and he lifted his head. He brought his lips to mine, kissing me deeply as his tongue pressed hungrily against mine.

I curled my fingers around his nipple, teasing gently before trailing them down his torso to his groin. With deliberate intent, I reached for his belt, unbuckled it, and lowered the zipper. Then, in one smooth motion, I slid his trousers down and tossed them aside. My fingers grazed his skin as I hooked into the waistband of his boxers and tugged them down.

What greeted me made my breath hitch. His cock was thick, hard, and erect. It was twice the size of that of Bruce. Exactly the way I loved it

He stood and I knelt facing his cock. I looked up at him, locking eyes, as I wrapped one hand around his shaft, rubbing saliva all over it and stroked him slowly. My other hand gently fondled his cock, teasing the sensitive places that made him groan.

His breath caught. "F*ck..." he muttered under his breath, his head tipping back slightly.

Keeping my eyes locked on his, I leaned forward, letting my tongue swirl around his cap, tasting the pre-cum that had gathered there. Inch by inch, I took him deeper, my lips stretching around him as I savored the way his muscles tensed. I let my fingers trail lower, gently cupping his balls, feeling the warmth and tension in every part of him.

He let out a low guttural moan that sent heat pulsing through my core as I pounding in and out. Then I took his balls in my mouth and sucked it. He was moaning and I loved the way it sounded. He was obviously enjoying the blow job I was giving him. Then, I pulled his thick length back in my mouth until it was in my throat. I wanted to make sure I gave him the best of myself.

He tangled his fingers in my hair as I moved faster, hollowing my cheeks around him. His breathing grew heavier, his abs tightening with each stroke of my mouth. Then, with a low growl, he shoved the sperm in my mouth. I tried to pull his cock out but he held me firmly and I swallowed it with some of it dripping at the side of my mouth.

Then, he lifted me up as I wrapped my legs around his waist. He placed me gently on the bed and his lips claimed mine once more.

He spread my legs apart, and guided his cock into my wet entrance. I gasped as he filled me, slowly at first, making sure I felt every inch. His eyes burned with hunger as he stared down at me, taking in every inch.

Then he began to move deeper and harder.

"Uh...ah-yes-don't stop!" I screamed, gripping the sheets.

His name tumbled from my lips again and again as he pounded into me with powerful thrusts, holding my hips as if he couldn't get close enough. The sound of our bodies echoed through the room, each stroke sending shockwaves through me.

"F**k, you feel so good," he growled, his thrusts becoming erratic.

"Harder...please....don't stop!" I begged, my legs trembling from the overwhelming pleasure.

His fingers dug into my waist as he drove deeper. "Say my name," he demanded.

"sebestain! Seb-ahhh!" I screamed as my orgasm pulsed through me, so intense that the sound of his cock sliding in and out of my soaked entrance turned into a wet, sinful swoosh. He pulled out slightly, dragging the tip along my slick, swollen folds, teasing me.

I moaned louder, unable to hold back. "Uh-ahh... ahh... yes..."

He slammed back into me with a ragged moan, the word "f**k" tearing from his throat. His thrusts grew harder, faster, deeper and relentless until my body arched to meet his. Then, with one final, desperate drive, his groan spilled low and rough as he released inside me. His body quaked against mine before he collapsed, breathless and trembling, our sweat-slicked skin tangling in the heat of spent desire.

He collapsed onto the bed beside me, breath breaking in uneven bursts, his chest lifting and sinking like waves after a storm. I tilted my head toward him, the corners of my mouth curving on their own, a quiet satisfaction blooming inside me.

Then his phone rang. He glanced at the screen, and something in his expression darkened. Without a word, he slipped into the bathroom to answer, the door closing softly behind him. His voice was low and muffled through the wall, indistinct but edged with tension.

I lay there smiling to myself, my body still humming from what we had just shared. He had given me the best sex of my life-intense, consuming, unforgettable. I had been so faithful to Bruce, clinging to the idea of loyalty, and yet tonight, I had tasted a passion far more satisfying with a man who wasn't him.

For the first time that evening, I felt both relaxed and utterly spent. My limbs were heavy, my heart unburdened. Slowly, sleep tugged me under, stealing me away before he even returned from the bathroom.