Listen... Let's not pretend we didn't know what we were getting ourselves into.

(Still gonna hide myself until this is over, tho.)

"Oh, so now you think I'm weak, too?"

"What?"

"Am I not good enough? Not good enough to be part of your world?"

"Who said that?" His tone was lower, hands clenched by his side.

I kept my mouth shut, turning away from him, only to be pulled right back into his arms.

"Tell me."

"It doesn't matter."

"The hell it does."

I huffed a breath, staring at him defiantly.

"Fuck... You've got to be kidding me." His voice was lower, a humorless chuckle masking his frustration.

He kept his gaze on me, eyes searching my own, brows furrowed.

He reached for my cheek, but never touched me; fingers leaving a phantom sense, barely there.

"You won't tell me? Is that it?" he breathed the words against the heated skin of my cheeks. "Fine. Have it your way, baby."

It was amazing how fast his anger turned into mischief, but that smirk revealed it all. His fingers continued down my jaw, never touching my skin, even though I almost felt them. Somehow this type of torture was worse.

After everything that happened tonight, I needed him, his touch, skin on skin.

"Brandon, please." A whimper left my lips, my eyes half hooded.

"What d'you want, Angel?" he said by my ear, voice deeper than before.

I didn't have a voice. I didn't have the right words to say what I wanted. Instead, I pulled him close, sealing our lips together, as I tried to show him instead. Lips unforgiving, as we fought with no words, teeth clashing in the sweetest of ways, making my heart ache.

He wanted more; I wasn't the only one. Difference was, he was more patient than me, and he'd use that against me every time.

"Not so fast, Angel."

"Wha-"

My back collided with the glass window, his body trapping me in place. When my eyes found his features again, I was breathless, transfixed, as the lights from outside created beautiful patterns on his skin, made his eyes shine brighter.

"It's my turn to get worked up, after your little skit, tonight."

"Brand- oh!"

He turned me around, now facing the lights illuminating the city instead, as he pushed my body closer to the glass with his. The feeling of the cold window against my exposed skin was burning, a stark contrast to Brandon's burning warmth behind me. But it was all welcomed.

"Did I tell you, how much I love this dress?" he asked against my skin, lips trailing down my throat. "The moment I saw you on that balcony... on your knees... fuck! You're always looking for trouble, aren't you, angel?"

His hands wandered down my exposed back, over the silk of my dress, as his fingers played with the hem over my thigh. He was slow, meticulous in his actions, leaving no skin untouched.

Tantalizing fingers lifted my dress over my ass, nails leaving pink lines on my thighs like trails on a map. My skin burned on the glass, and I flinched upon contact, but Brandon was quick to distract me with his lips on my shoulder, his hands on my waist keeping me in place.

It wasn't enough. Dio mio, it wasn't enough.

Like the back of his hand, he knew exactly what I wanted, what I needed, without any clarification. He was just enjoying denying me.

Tattooed fingers caressed my skin, following the trail of my hip bone all the way around to my core. It didn't take long for him to move my underwear aside and establish how ready I was for him, if the lustful groan caught up in his throat was any indication.

"So ready for me... always so wet and ready for me, baby."

He was everywhere. He was everything I needed, and more.

With a pained moan released from my lips, I pushed against his fingers, urging them to touch me more, deeper, harder. But his sadistic chuckle hitting the skin of my throat made me almost freeze in place. He wouldn't play nicely tonight, and the realization made the wetness between my legs flare, like the fire burning in my stomach.

With his hand tangled in my hair, he turned my face to the side, kissing me deeply, drinking in all my reactions. With our lips interlocked, my moans and whimpers met only his lips, as his fingers caressed my sensitive skin, touching me exactly where he knew drove me crazy.

Still trapped between the window and his body, every movement of my spasming body rubbed against him. I wasn't the only one ready to have him, right here against this window. It was only a matter of time. And I would do everything in my power to exploit that knowledge, get him to give me everything.

"Fuck... this temperament of yours, is driving me crazy," he said against my lips; each grind of my body against his chipped at his patience.

A soft whimper left my lips when he removed his fingers, but the sound of his belt and zipper, unbuckled and pulled down, made me stay in place. My heart was beating faster in anticipation, the feeling of his body so close to me making my insides erupt in flames.

He raised both my hands over my head, pulling my dress all the way up and out of the way. "Fuck..." he said under his breath, the warmth creating goosebumps at the back of my neck, when he found out I wasn't wearing a bra.

He minimized all the space between us, sliding himself between my slick legs, his chest to my back. More whimpers escaped my lips upon contact, but Brandon was still having too much fun to give me, to give both of us, what we needed.

"Brandon, ple- Ugh!" My surprised gasp echoed off the walls of the room when the burning smack of his hand landed on my ass. Eyes wide, I was left baffled, confused.

Another landed on my ass, but this time I moaned, unable to pretend I was left unbothered.

At the front of my mind only one question kept repeating itself: Why the hell did that feel so good?

I was caught off guard by my own emotions.

A voice at the back of my mind kept screaming, to stop this. This should feel humiliating, confusing, infuriating.

Was I weird for feeling pleasure from the pain?

But then again, both pain and pleasure centers in the brain are awfully close to one another.

Maybe it was just confusion.

Maybe I was fooling myself into liking it.

Or maybe, I was weird, and I should stop this before I complicated lust in my brain further-

Another moan escaped my lips, halting my train of thought from crushing like a rollercoaster in my brain, when Brandon's hand landed on my ass again; the loud smack reverberating through my very bones.

"Stop overthinking this, baby... and just feel me," he spoke against my throat, pinching the muscle between his fingers to soothe the burning tingle.

Before I could defend myself against his accusations, Brandon landed another smack on my ass, massaging it softly, before repeating his actions a fifth time.

Every time he did that I gasped louder, sliding on the cock between my legs, that served as a firm reminder of how close we were.

"Show me that temperament of yours, angel." Another smack, another moan; another reminder of how lewd this felt.

"Brandon!"

I couldn't feel my legs anymore. I wanted to crumble on the floor. The only reason I was still standing, was the way his whole body was holding me upright, in the perfect position to accept the onslaught of his affection.

Seeing as I was on the brink of tears from all the stimulation, he stopped taking his wrath out on my ass, massaging the reddened muscle instead.

"Is this what you wanted, baby?"

Before I could clarify in my mind what he was referring to, he angled his hips just right, pushing inside me hard and fast. A high-pitched moan escaped my lips, my muscles trembled, but I pushed back, seeking more of that delicious roughness.

"Fuck, you're so tight."

I felt my body pulsing, clenching around him, as I pushed back with equal fervor. I was getting lost in all the pleasure and fast, and as a last resort, I turned my face to the side, searching for his lips as one last chance to ground myself.

He didn't refuse me this time. He didn't pull back.

Instead, he held me in his arms sweetly, kissing my lips like he was drowning himself; a stark contrast to his rough fucking.

"This week was torture..." he said against my lips in a whisper, only for the two of us to hear. "Not seeing you, not kissing or touching you... Not being able to fuck you... everything. It was fucking torture!"

"Brandon!"

"And then you go ahead and walk right into the lion's den?" At that, his voice turned dark again; the thought, that I put myself in danger so readily, was enough to enrage him all over again.

I was waiting for another smack on my ass, but he pulled out of me instead, which was a worse punishment. A pathetic whimper left my lips, as my inner muscles clenched around the emptiness he left behind.

Without waiting another second, he turned me around, hooking his hands underneath my thighs to hoist me up with ease, as he took us both to the bed.

The cold silk of the bed felt like heaven on my burning skin, as Brandon finally pulled my wet underwear off my legs, discarding them somewhere in the room with the rest of our clothes.

Looking up, I was surprised to find him still in his black slacks and white shirt, only now realizing how exposed I was.

I pulled him close, finding the strength in my sore arms to pull him close, unbuttoning the buttons of his shirt one by one, pushing the trousers off his hips and down his legs, to have him all to myself.

Skin on skin; everywhere.

And then everything moved in slow motion when our eyes locked on each other, as he kneeled between my legs. Just like before, he took his time with my body, his cock rutting between my wet folds, back and forth, until he leisurely pushed inside; the most arousing sensation I have ever felt.

Of course, it wasn't the only thing slowly pushing me over the edge.

It was his eyes.

They made me excited. And nervous, when they gleamed with mischief.

Or maybe it was his tattoos, inked on his sculpted body. Dark branches on the strained muscles, his tanned skin covered by a thin layer of sweat.

Or maybe it was all of it, as he was buried between my legs, his eyes drinking in my lewd expressions as he took me apart all over again; deep and slow.

He traced my lips with his tongue, tasting the moans escaping my mouth from the source. I couldn't help it anymore, lost in the feeling he was creating, as I dug my fingers in his dark hair, scratching down to his neck, to ground me.

"More..." I whimpered, needing something, anything to finally push me over the edge. "Baby, ple-"

Brandon pushed two fingers between my lips, stealing the words from my mouth, as he sucked a mark on my collarbone.

"Fuck..." he cursed against my skin, as I nipped and sucked and licked the fingers in my mouth; his hips faltering for a moment. "God, you're so good for me."

I moaned once more, the praise making me feel warm allover, as my hips met his wantonly.

"More!" It came out slurry, but he knew what I needed, as he pulled his fingers out of my mouth to kiss me hungrily.

"So fucking impatient," his grin was driving me crazy. "That's not good, angel. That's not good at all."

He picked up pace, hips meeting my own harder, when his next words made my body freeze.

"I want you to move in with me!"

"What?" I breathed out, eyes wide, searching for his.

"Tell me you want to, baby." His lips and teeth created trails down my neck.

"You can't ask something like tha-... when we're... doing this," I said between breaths.

"When we're doing what?"

There it was again; the mischief, the playfulness.

"You know what... this."

"What, Angel?" Each word was accompanied with a hard thrust, making it obvious this wouldn't be easy either.

"This. This! When you're fucking the living daylights out of me."

"Fuck, I love it when you talk like that." He grunted against my assaulted skin, happy to have his way.

He pulled out of me one last time, turning me around on my tummy, before thrusting back inside; harder than before.

"Nghh..."

"Was that a yes?" he asked huskily, lips beside my ear, as his body draped over mine. "Say yes, baby."

"Yes! It's a fucking ye- Ugh!"

He pulled me back to him, scalp tingling from the way he was holding onto my hair. "Feeling brave tonight, baby?" He rasped by my ear, his deep voice sending tingles down my spine.

"Fuck, Brandon- Agh..."

Trapping my lower lip between my teeth, I tried to hold my moans in, but he wasn't having it.

Brandon's fingers released my hair to reach under my belly, rubbing between my folds clenching around him, before he started circling my clit. I was overstimulated all over again, writhing under him, trying to endure the pleasure.

But it was inevitable. I was too close.

"That's right... show me how good you feel. Let me hear you, angel."

Soft lips caressed my skin, a last push, before I was falling. My skin was pulsing, trembling with every breath. And he held me close, whispering sweet nothings in my ear, as I whimpered his name.

And through all the mind-numbing sensations, I felt his hips falter and lose their rhythm, before he pulled out, leaving his pleasure on my skin; warm and tingly.

It was silent in the room. Only sound our fast breathing and my erratic beating heart in my ears.

I couldn't move my sore body to save my life, so I just stayed there; under the warm blanket that was Brandon's body over mine.

I was lost in my post-orgasmic bliss, not registering Brandon stepping away for a minute. But after a few minutes of pure breathing, I felt the bed dip and then a wet, cold towel soothed my burning skin between my legs, then moving over my ass cheek to collect the sticky fluids there.

Bliss was the only feeling in my brain, when Brandon finally settled beside me, hugging my body closer to his, as he pulled the comforter over both of us.

I rested my head on his chest, fingers trailing the ink on his skin, while he did the same with my hair.

It was nice. Serene.

And at the same time, after the whole night we had, it was too fucking much.

"Hey," he said, in the quiet of the dimly lit room, and I turned my attention towards him. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Hmm..." I nodded, stretching my body to give him a kiss.

I could feel that beautiful ache allover, but even that amount of movement strained my muscles. I wouldn't be able to move tomorrow, but that was a problem for tomorrow, not tonight.

Brandon reached his hands over our heads, letting a small metallic object dangle from his fingers.

"What's this?" I asked surprised, his eyes trained on my expression.

"I had it made for you this week."

"You were serious?" I pushed on his chest, to level with him, a wide grin expanding on my face.

"Weren't you?" he asked expectedly, raising an eyebrow.

"I- I was, I just thought... it was sex talk, or something."

"Sex talk?" He burst out laughing, eyes amused by my thinking. After another breath, he turned towards me, kissing my pouty lips. caressing my cheekbone.

"No, Angel, that's not what it was. I truly, genuinely, honestly want you to move in with me," he said caressing my cheekbone. "I know we're both busy and have little to no free time. But falling by your side each night after a long day, is all I need. For now, at least."

I bit my lip, trying to reign my happiness at his implications, but it was inevitable. The butterflies were flattering madly in my stomach. And as I reached for the key, my key, everything got more real.

"I'm sorry for putting you through all this," he said after a while, voice softer, brows furrowed in guilt.

"Stop. I knew what I was getting myself into," I said back, trying to sound confident. "Can you get tests done? If the board and the media see your system is clean, then all this won't matter."

"You're not wrong. And long term, that will help with my public figure. But I have a hunch, what they're doing won't be detected anyway. Tonight, down there, everyone looked confident and didn't sweat over the implications of a possible testing procedure."

"Is it because of the drug's short lifespan?"

"I think so," he said with a sigh. "That, or they know how to fool the system even further. Which means-"

"They have someone on the inside," I finished his sentence for him, and he nodded, agreeing with me.

I knew how important this was to him. Building his life allover again, from the ground up, was his legacy. To top it off, being in the game, was his way of keeping the people in his life safe, as his end of the deal with Cyrus Inkles himself.

Could they hurt him because of it? They were the ones that started all this mess, but I had a nagging feeling in the back of my mind, that this would come back to bite him.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong? Look at me."

I didn't realize it, until he was whipping stray tears that escaped my eyes in the middle of overthinking this.

"Baby, look at me," he pleaded with me, trying to make me meet his eyes.

"I'm sorry. It's nothing... I was overthinking things, that's all."

"Let me show you something," he said, as he moved to the side of the bed, fishing his phone out of the discarded pants on the floor.

In the minute it took him to find what he was looking for, I wiped my tears quickly, coaxing my breathing back to normal.

He was sliding through his apps, until he settled on a video he recorded earlier tonight; the orchestrated meeting between Inkles and his mercenaries, down to the last second, of his talk with Viviana.

After the video came to an end, I played it again, fast forwarding through the bits and pieces I couldn't stomach reliving.

I couldn't believe it. It was all there.

I turned to him, eyes wide like saucers, only to find that amused smirk back on his face.

"I have a plan."

"I shouldn't be surprised." I sounded breathless; hope never tasted this sweet.

"You shouldn't. I'm always prepared."

"Really?" I sounded cocky, as I raised an eyebrow, nodding around to the room we found solace in.

"Well... I was planning on getting us home first, but... let's just say I got sidetracked."

Home. It sounded so perfect.

I kissed him deeply and he pulled me closer, turning our bodies to the side, until we got comfortable on the bed again. Brandon was back to brushing his fingers through my hair, while I concentrated on his heart, beating its melody through his skin.