Never Again Yours (Isadora and Magnus)

Chapter 6

Beneath his sharp, cropped hair was a strikingly handsome face-deep-set eyes,

a strong nose, features chiseled as if sculpted by an artist's hand.

He was nothing like Magnus, whose cold, distant gaze sent a chill through any room he entered.

Victor, on the other hand, had eyes that slanted just so, their corners lifting in a way that gave him a subtle, mischievous allure whenever he smiled-an edge of wickedness that was easy to miss, but impossible to forget.

Isadora sat up in bed, clutching the duvet to her chest, nerves jangling. "Victor, I— I didn't mean for this to happen. I was drugged. That's the only reason I..." She trailed off, cheeks burning. "How can I make it up to you?"

She couldn't believe it herself-the heir to the powerful Fitzgerald family of Capitolion, Victor, had just spent the night with her.

Even she was baffled by the situation.

Victor arched an eyebrow, his gaze lingering on the woman tangled up in sheets.

Isadora's long, wavy hair spilled over her shoulders, making her delicate face seem even smaller, her clear eyes clouded with regret.

She was beautiful, her fair skin marked by the unmistakable traces of their night together.

Victor's eyes darkened, his voice lazy and almost teasing as he picked up on her words. "And how do you plan to compensate me?"

Isadora faltered, voice barely a whisper. "Maybe I could...buy you dinner?"

Victor's eyelids flickered with amusement. "Do you really think I'm hurting for a free meal?"

a

you could give

time sleeping with anyone. What was she

had no idea how to handle this—if Victor hadn't been the Fitzgerald heir, she'd be the

time, gone just like

city's most eligible

looked at it, she was

under her delicate chin, forcing her to

their eyes locked in the silence

lips. "Isadora, I just spent the night making sure you

mind went blank, her thoughts

of the drug, she'd surrendered

now, she was painfully, mortifyingly

She couldn't do this.

her time to dwell on it. He gripped her slender waist, drawing her

hunger and heat burning in every breath, every

was already loose, revealing the elegant line of her collarbone, pale and

trailed along her brow, her cheek, her lips, planting soft, lingering kisses before finally

breath danced against her ear, sending shivers all the way

breathy and unfamiliar-nothing like the way she

Victor's lips and the clean, masculine scent of his skin threatened to

her thoughts drifted to

spent days preparing for it, baking a chocolate cake from

night, she'd worn a daring little black dress-short,