AYLA

I groan, shifting onto my back and opening my eyes. My body aches in strange places.

My eyes stare at the familiar ceiling. It looks to be Massimo’s room back home. The sheets over me also smell like him.

Confused, I glance to my right and find him sitting on the bed, his back facing me. He is wearing a black suit, and his hands are busy fixing his cufflinks.

The memories from last night pour in one after another. My cheeks heat, and I pull the sheets to my chin.

I had sex with him. It felt so- - -good. My lips pucker out. Oh, Goddess.

What now?

How did I seduce him and throw myself at him numerous times?

“You slept for half the day. I was wondering if you have slipped into a coma.” Massimo's deep voice fills the space.

“You tired me out-- -" I blurt, and squeeze my eyes shut the next moment.

Such a good way to embarrass myself more.

I can sense him shifting in the bed. The heat of his gaze warms my face, making me pull the sheets higher, to my nose.

“What's with you and Cassian?” He asks.

My hands freeze. I open my eyes and meet his gaze. It's different from last night. He is cold now.

the sheets back to my chin and squeal. “what about Cassian and

gulp and avert my gaze. Why is

you to be honest” Massimo says,

and I

a thing

on my chin, sending a wave of sparks down my back and he forces me to look his

blurting, giving away what

me, with those deep and assessing eyes. It does something to

is

hands clench around the sheet as I lower my gaze to the open collar of his shirt. I don't

knowing he is not your fated

before mating with

chin. He pulls his hand away and turns

the question.” what did he do to

on a thin layer of

and my chin wobbles. “I- -

glances at me from over his shoulder,

his hands on you like the fucker from last night?” His next words have me flinching in

miserably. I should lie. I should tell Massimo a story. But as he stares into my teary eyes, I find myself tongue-tied. I can not bring myself to lie to him. “He liked to- - -make fun of my weakness.

“A frown settles

need to come up with something to get out of this

to tell you

only blinks. I

want me to tell you everything myself, Massimo, you should tell me why you hate

suit. Our gazes lock, his eyes filling with ice.

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