The room was silent except for the sound of the lock clicking into place.
Nora's heart stilled.
She turned slowly, only to find Zayan standing behind her—shirtless, the soft glow of the chandelier casting shadows over the sharp edges of his chest. His eyes… darker than ever. Burning. Dangerous.
"I told you it wasn't a debt," he said, voice low, rough, laced with something feral. "And yet here you are."
She swallowed hard, gripping the cleaning cloth in her hand. "I came to—"
"To repay me?" he interrupted, stepping closer, backing her slowly toward the bed. "You think what we have can be balanced with favors?"
Her breath hitched as her back brushed against the edge of the mattress. He was inches from her now, and the heat rolling off him felt like a fire she couldn't run from.
"You don't owe me anything," he murmured, lifting her chin with two fingers. "But I'll still take everything."
His mouth crashed against hers—possessive, raw, demanding. His kiss wasn't gentle. It was a storm. One that devoured and claimed. She melted into it, her hands finding his shoulders, her fingers digging into the hard muscles of his back.
Zayan didn't wait. He pulled her into his arms, stripping the layers from her body with a patience that barely contained the wildness in him. She gasped as her back hit the bed, his body covering hers like a predator that had finally caught what it had been hunting for so long.
Every kiss he pressed to her skin was slow, sensual, scorching—down her neck, her chest, her waist. She arched into him, her body betraying her with every soft moan.
"You feel that?" he whispered against her skin. "This is mine now. Every part of you."
He slid his hands down her hips, gripping her firmly before pulling her into him. The first thrust knocked the air from her lungs—deep, rough, perfect. She gasped, her legs wrapping around him as her hands clawed at the sheets. He was relentless. Unforgiving. His pace deepened with every breath, each movement claiming her again and again.
Her eyes rolled back, her lips trembling with every sound she couldn't hold in. It was overwhelming—the way he touched her, the way he moved inside her, the way he whispered her name like a prayer and a curse.
Zayan leaned over her, his lips brushing her ear. "You'll never belong to anyone else. Do you understand that?"
She couldn't speak. Only nod.
Good. He didn't want words. He wanted surrender.
The night stretched endlessly, their bodies tangled, the air thick with heat and the scent of skin. It wasn't just lust—it was possession. It was obsession. And it was more than either of them were ready to admit.
By the time their fire had dimmed, Zayan lay beside her, chest rising and falling slowly, arm resting protectively over her waist. Even in sleep, he held her like something he refused to let go.
Nora stared at the ceiling for a long time.
Then, gently, she turned to him. Her fingers brushed through his dark hair, down the sharp line of his jaw. She leaned in and kissed him softly—his cheek, then his lips. Not with passion this time… but with something unspoken.
She said nothing.
No goodbye. No thank you.
She dressed slowly, quietly, and with one last look at the man who had just claimed every part of her, she walked out of the room—leaving behind the warmth of the sheets, the echo of his breath, and the fire they started together.