Chapter 3: One Night with a Stranger

Aria’s P.O.V

“Are you alright?” the man asked, his gaze steady as it searched my face.

I couldn’t answer. My body felt heavy, unresponsive, as if I were still trapped in the moment he had pulled me out of.

God… he looked unreal, like he was a Greek god who’d stepped down from Mt. Olympus.

Midnight black hair framed a face sculpted with sharp, clean lines, his dark blue eyes piercing yet controlled. A few strands fell over his forehead, but nothing about him seemed careless. Every detail—from the straight bridge of his nose to the firm line of his jaw—felt deliberate. And his lips… soft, perfectly shaped, almost distracting enough to make me forget how to breathe.

There was something familiar about him, something just out of reach, but I couldn’t place it.

“Miss?” His voice lowered slightly, firmer this time, grounding. “Look at me.”

The quiet authority in his tone made my eyes snap back to his.

“I asked if you’re alright.”                                                           

“I—I’m fine,” I stammered, though the words felt hollow. “I just… I’m okay.”

He didn’t look convinced. His gaze moved over me slowly, assessing, taking in the trembling of my hands, the uneven rise and fall of my chest. When his hands settled on my shoulders, his grip was firm but not rough. It felt steady, anchoring, and a sharp current ran through me at the contact.

“You’re not fine,” he said quietly. “You’re in shock.”

There was no room to argue. Something in the way he spoke—calm, certain—made resistance feel pointless.

“Come with me,” he added, already guiding me closer. “You need to sit down somewhere quiet.”

I should have hesitated. I should have questioned him, asked who he was, why I should trust him. Instead, I found myself moving with him, letting him lead me through the side of the club and up the stairs.

His hand remained at my shoulder the entire time, not gripping too tightly, but never giving me the chance to drift away. It was subtle, controlled—like he had already decided I wasn’t going anywhere.

By the time we reached the hallway lined with closed doors, my legs were barely holding me up. He seemed to notice immediately.

“Easy,” he murmured, his hand tightening just enough to steady me.

He spoke briefly to one of the staff, his tone shifting into something sharper, more authoritative, before the door to one of the rooms was opened.

Inside, everything was quiet, yet expensive.

He guided me to the bed and waited until I sat before stepping away, only to return seconds later with a glass of water. I took it from him, my fingers brushing his, and quickly looked down as I drank.

“Slow down,” he said, his hand covering mine again as I finished too quickly.

This time, he didn’t move away.

He crouched in front of me, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off him, his eyes fixed on mine with an intensity that made it hard to look anywhere else.

“Did they hurt you?” he asked, his voice quieter now, but no less firm. “Tell me.”

That was all it took.

The tears came without warning, spilling over before I could stop them. A broken sob escaped me as I wrapped my arms around myself, my body shaking under the weight of everything I had been holding in.

His expression shifted instantly, the sharpness softening into something almost unreadable.

I tried to stop, but I couldn’t. The humiliation, the betrayal, the fear—it all crashed down at once, leaving me gasping between uneven breaths.

He watched me for a moment longer, as if giving me the chance to regain control. When I didn’t, he moved.

One second, he was kneeling in front of me, the next, I was pulled into him.

His arms wrapped around me, firm and unyielding, drawing me against his chest in a way that felt less like comfort and more like quiet possession. There was no hesitation in the way he held me, no uncertainty…just warmth, strength, and something steady enough to ground me.

And I broke even more.

My sister’s betrayal burned through my mind, followed closely by the image of Landon with her, the certainty that no one would ever take my side. I had spent so long swallowing my anger, my hurt, making myself smaller just to avoid conflict.

But here, in the arms of a man who didn’t even know me, I didn’t have to hide anymore.

My sobs gradually softened, my grip on him tightening instead of pushing him away. Without realizing it, I leaned into him, my arms sliding around his waist as if I needed him there.

He didn’t pull back.

If anything, his hold tightened slightly, his hand moving up my back in slow, deliberate strokes that sent a strange warmth through me, calming me in ways I didn’t understand.

By the time my breathing steadied, the silence between us had changed.

It wasn’t just comfort anymore. It was something heavier…something dangerous.

When he finally pulled back, it wasn’t abrupt. His hand remained at my waist, steadying me, while his other lifted to tilt my chin upward.

“Better?” he asked softly, though his eyes searched mine as if he already knew the answer.

I nodded, unable to speak.

His gaze lingered on my face, then slowly dropped to my lips.

My breath caught.

The air between us shifted, thickened, charged with something that made my pulse quicken.

I should have moved, I should have looked away.

But I didn’t.

His thumb brushed lightly against my chin, holding me in place as he leaned closer, unhurried, giving me every chance to stop him, to push him away.

I didn’t.

When his lips finally met mine, the touch was gentle at first, almost testing, as if he was measuring my reaction.

But the moment I didn’t pull back, something in him changed.

The kiss deepened, no longer hesitant. His hand at my waist tightened, drawing me closer until there was no space left between us. It wasn’t forceful, but it was controlled, deliberate—like he knew exactly what he was doing and had no intention of letting me forget it.

And I didn’t want to.

My fingers curled into his shirt as I leaned into him, responding without thinking, without questioning. The warmth of his lips, the steady pressure, the way he held me as if I belonged exactly where I was—it all blurred together, pulling me under.

For the first time that night, I wasn’t thinking about betrayal, or the pain or anything at all.

Just him.

I didn’t know how much I needed this until I fell on the bed, his body covering me. His hands found my zipper and with expert hands, he removed my clothes. I didn’t want to think about what was happening, I just wanted to feel him on me, caressing my body and that was what he did.

His lips moved down, sucking and licking down my neck, down my chest and upon finding the bridge between my legs, he dove in, his lips going into places I never thought was possible. I moaned just as I felt the wetness dripping from my thighs. His hands found my breasts again just as his shaft caressed the entrance of my womanhood, gently easing into me.

A sharp pain sent a tremor through me, but I bit my lip from crying out loud. And then, he was buried inside me to the hilt. I felt full in that moment, like I’d never felt in my entire life. As he began pumping into me, in and out, forming a steady rhythm, all my inhibitions fell away until my moans and screams were all that filled the room.

“Fuck! You’re so tight.” he said, his lips finding my breast once again.

Suddenly…he stopped and pulled out of me gently. I groaned in protest, feeling the loss of his fullness inside me already.

Then, with a swift turn of his hands, he flipped me over so that my back so that I was now against him, just as he slammed into me from behind, taking his fill. My moans became louder with every passing moment. I knew he wasn’t releasing me anytime soon and I didn’t want him to either. Because this sensation…I had never had this before, this euphoric high of becoming one with someone so completely that I didn't even know where I ended and he began.

“Do you like it?” he asked, thrusting into me with each word he asked.

“Yes,” I moaned out, rubbing my heated pussy on his dick.

My back arched as his thrusts became faster, harder, as he moved one hand in front of me, using his fingers to massage my already taut nipples. I moaned out when he put one of his fingers into my mouth, just as I sucked, and his other hand massaged my folds. My fingers found his dick somehow and as I stroked him softly, feeling the taut ridges of his shaft. I felt him jerk a bit, quite surprised that I was bold enough to do this.

“You’re so wet. Do you like it?” he growled in my ears, thrusting even harder now.

“Yes,” I moaned out, pleasure hazing over my brain.

He thrusted again, and I felt my inner muscles contract around him, fitting his shaft like a glove.

“I’m close…” I managed to say.

He thrusted harder, as I cried out in pleasure, my eyes rolling back into my head as I saw stars.

“Come for me baby.”

With a cry I didn't know I was capable of, I came hard enough that my vision went blank for a few moments. My voice echoed throughout the room, just as he also found his release. I collapsed on the bed, my eyes fluttering close and with the realization in my heart that I had just lost my virginity to a complete stranger…someone I didn't even know the name of.