Zayden's POV:
After spending the last two days killing and dealing with the aftermath, I deserved to let loose with whiskey and a warm body for the night. Since my life was too fast-paced to slow down and form a real connection with a woman, I usually preferred someone who was willing to satisfy my dominant tendencies for a single night, while I fucked us both into oblivion and never saw her again. My zero interest in dating was another big reason I stuck to random hookups.
I arrived at the Infinity Skydome, the tallest building in the city, owned by my family. Despite its primary use for business, my penthouse on the top floor serves as my personal space. However, as I reached the club, my brother Lucas was already there, and he dragged me to the private suite to celebrate my birthday, which was two days before.
The whole celebration felt childish and annoying, and to make matters worse, Lucas excused himself to go screw a woman who had been eyeing him from the dance floor. I was left alone with all of his idiotic friends and my thoughts in the suite.
That's when my eyes wandered to the entrance of the club, and I spotted her. For a few seconds, I was motionless, captivated by a woman who took my breath away. I had never seen someone so poised and composed in a place where people come to lose their inhibitions.
My gaze remained locked on her, never wavering for a single moment, like a predator sizing up its prey before the hunt, as she walked towards the bar and ordered her drink. I felt an immediate, intense attraction to this woman, something I had never experienced before, and I knew the reason—it was her hair.
Her sunlit blonde hair reminded me of a canary I used to keep. I had clipped its wings so it couldn't fly away and would stay caged to me. As I stared at her, a grin spread across my face; she resembled my pet.
I was good at reading people, and I could tell this woman was too innocent and perfect to be approached by someone like me. But being the sick motherfucker I was, I wanted to ruin all that perfection with my dirty hands. Besides, she was too beautiful to spend the night alone with her drink.
When I walked to the bar and sat across from her, I noticed those emerald green eyes never left me, making me crave her attention even more. Using conversation as an excuse, I shifted closer to her, and in that moment, I realized it would be a great sin not to meet such a mesmerizing woman in your lifetime.
I became so intrigued that, when I saw the ring on her finger, a strong sense of disappointment washed over me. But as she explained its significance, her words struck me with a jolt, and I swore I grew impossibly harder at the thought of fucking a virgin for the first time in my life.
I was supposed to stop there, turn around, and walk away to find another woman who wasn't as pure as her, but it was too late. I ended up complimenting her, and she fucking smiled at my words. It was the kind of smile you knew you wanted to see for the rest of your life.
"Little bird! Why are you calling me that?" She asked, her eyes shining like jewels.
I took a sip of my whiskey while she waited for my response. I refused to enlighten her; it would be a little secret for me to remember her by the time I let her go tonight, untouched, even though I didn't want to. But she was far too precious to be ruined by some devil like me.
"By the way, the ring isn't that significant. I'm just bound to wear it," she continued, raising her glass to her lips.
I smirked, wondering if it was an invitation to approach her further. "Does that mean we can fuck?" I blurted out, catching her completely off guard. She choked on her drink, coughing uncontrollably as her eyes watered, struggling to catch her breath.
As her hand jerked, the drink slipped from her grasp, splashing all over my black shirt. She gasped, her eyes wide with horror, as the cold liquid soaked through my clothes.
Her porcelain skin betrayed her as it reddened with embarrassment.
"I... I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to—"
"You don't have to apologize. It's not a big deal," I interrupted, realizing I had been too blunt with my words, leaving her unprepared.
To my surprise, she offered me a handkerchief from her small bag, and I chuckled at her naive gesture. I gladly accepted it, knowing it wouldn't do much to clean my shirt, but feeling an urge to have something of hers.
"If you let me, I can pay for your dry cleaning," she kindly suggested, when such kindness was too rare for me.
She didn't seem like the type of woman who would linger around with the excuse of paying for her mistake, and a part of me didn't want to let her go so soon.
"What about paying with something else?" I asked, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair that had fallen from her chignon, gently tucking it behind her ear. Her body stiffened, and I wasn't sure if it was from my words or my touch.
"It's not going to happen. I don't know you," she snapped, glaring at me annoyingly. I couldn't help but chuckle at this innocent woman having impure thoughts about us, even though I hadn't meant that by my words.
"I'm a gentleman, little bird. I won't do anything without your consent. I was just asking for a dance," I said, my voice steady as I waited for a rejection.
But her eyes softened, as if the tension were leaving her body. I took it as a sign and extended my hand, palm open and waiting.
For a moment, she hesitated, her gaze flickering between my outstretched hand and my eyes. Then, with a delicate exhale, she placed her hand in mine, it was both delicate and trembling. I led her to the center of the dance floor, where the crowd seemed to melt away. She was neither short nor tall in height, yet she felt tiny before my tall frame.
As we began to dance, I made sure to keep my touch gentle but firm, guiding her with a subtle confidence. Her initial stiffness gradually gave way to a more fluid grace as the music's rhythm enveloped us. I kept my movements slow and deliberate, letting the dance become a delicate conversation between us.
Her jewel-like eyes flickered up to mine, and I saw a spark of curiosity mingled with her shyness. I leaned in slightly, my breath warm against her ear. "Does my little bird have a name?" I whispered, letting my words linger in the space between us.
"Is it necessary? You already gave me one, didn't you?" She replied, blushing as a faint color rose to her cheeks.
Although I felt she had a good reason to hide her personal information from a stranger, I appreciated that she wasn't upset about the nickname I'd given her. I decided not to share my name either, as she didn't seem curious to know it, which was probably best for her. Still, I was eager to learn more about her.
"Why were you alone at the bar? Women like you usually don't roam around in places like this," I asked, pulling her closer.
Her delicate body responded to my proximity, her movements growing more assured as the dance continued. I let my hand glide lightly along her back, lingering just a moment longer than necessary.
"I came to meet a blind date at the café earlier, but he never showed up. So, I ended up here alone," she said, trying to sound unaffected by the absence of her date.
But those gorgeous eyes betrayed hidden sadness and emptiness, which were easy to read even at first glance. I felt pity for the bastard who decided to abandon her on their first date. She looked like an angel wrapped in sin, and I would definitely unravel her—if only I were a better man, and she were mine.
"Such a loser doesn't deserve you," I murmured, my voice low and intimate. "You deserve a man who knows what he really wants, not a motherfucker who leaves his blind date waiting."
"You don't know me, let alone what I deserve or want. I don't even know what I want for myself. So how can you sound so sure?" She asked, her eyes wide and searching, as if trying to decipher the deeper meaning behind my words.
The music slowed, stretching out the moment. I held her gaze, letting a hint of a smile touch my lips.
"Because you want what everyone wants. You want a love that consumes you; you want passion, adventure, and even a little danger," I said confidently.
She swallowed, her breath quickening ever so slightly at my words. As we twirled, I drew her a bit closer, my hand resting on her small back. I couldn't figure out what was going on in her mind, but I knew I had to warn her not to include a dangerous man like me in her precious thoughts.
I leaned in a little closer, my lips almost brushing her ear as I spoke. "Men like me should stay away from women like you, or else I'd show you... make you feel so many things, my little bird. I would definitely corrupt you."
I could feel her tension mingling with a newfound anticipation. "Wh... What does that mean?" she managed, her voice barely above a whisper.
I didn't feel the need to explain further; I knew I had to let her go. The longer she stayed with me, the more she would sway my sinful temptations.
The music began to fade, and I held her gaze, feeling the charged silence between us. As the final notes played, we came to a gentle stop.
"Show me," she whispered. I looked at her, confused, noticing the flush on her cheeks and the slightly breathless quality of her voice.
"Show me what it feels like to be corrupted by you."
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Thank you for reading the story.
The story is a dark romance and will have explicit scenes through out the story with which some of you may feel uncomfortable, read at your own risk.]