Chapter 1: The Spark Ignites
The dimly lit room buzzed with an electric tension as I, Vivienne Black, stood by the window of the upscale penthouse, the city skyline a glittering backdrop to the storm brewing inside me. I’d come here to confront Damien Cross, the infuriatingly magnetic CEO who’d been playing games with my company’s future. But now, as I watched him pour two glasses of amber whiskey, his sharp jawline and piercing blue eyes caught me off guard. Damn him for looking like sin in a tailored suit.
‘So, Vivienne,’ Damien drawled, handing me a glass, his voice a low, dangerous purr. ‘You think you can waltz in here and demand answers? You’ve got balls, I’ll give you that.’
I smirked, taking a sip, the burn of the liquor matching the heat in my veins. ‘Balls? Darling, I’ve got more than that. I’ve got the brains to outmaneuver you, and the guts to call you out on your bullshit. So, are we talking business, or are you just stalling because you’re scared I’ll win?’
His laugh was dark, a rumble that sent a shiver down my spine. He stepped closer, the scent of his cologne—woodsy, intoxicating—wrapping around me. ‘Scared? Of you? Sweetheart, I eat challenges for breakfast. But I’m curious… what else are you willing to put on the table?’
I arched a brow, refusing to back down, even as my pulse raced. ‘Careful, Cross. Keep talking like that, and I might just take you up on a different kind of deal. One that leaves you begging for mercy.’
His eyes darkened, a predator’s gleam flashing as he set his glass down and closed the distance between us. ‘Begging? Oh, Vivienne, I don’t beg. I take. And right now, I’m wondering just how much fire you’ve got under that ice-queen exterior.’
My breath hitched, but I held my ground, tilting my chin defiantly. ‘Try me, Damien. But don’t cry when I burn you.’
In a flash, his hand was on my waist, pulling me against the hard planes of his body. My tailored blazer felt like a flimsy barrier as his other hand cupped my jaw, his thumb brushing my lower lip with a maddening slowness. ‘Burn me, then,’ he growled, his voice dripping with challenge. ‘I dare you.’
I didn’t wait for another taunt. My lips crashed into his, a collision of hunger and defiance, tasting the whiskey and raw power on his tongue. My hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him closer as he groaned into the kiss, his grip tightening on my hips. The room spun, the city lights blurring as we stumbled toward the plush velvet couch, shedding jackets and inhibitions with every step.
‘You’re trouble,’ he muttered against my neck, his teeth grazing my skin as he pinned me beneath him, his weight a delicious pressure. ‘But fuck, I’ve never wanted trouble more.’
I laughed, breathless, my fingers threading through his dark hair as I arched into him. ‘Good. Because I’m about to make your world spin, Cross. Hope you can keep up.’
His smirk was wicked as his hands slid under my skirt, fingers teasing the edge of my lace thong. My body ignited, a wildfire spreading as he leaned down, his breath hot against my ear. ‘Oh, I’ll keep up, Vivienne. But first, I’m going to make you scream.’
And as his touch ventured lower, promising a storm of pleasure, I knew this was only the beginning of a night neither of us would forget.
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