Contract Marriage with the Dangerous Don

ANASTASIA POV

There were a lot of things I shouldn't have done today. Things I regretted deeply—things I desperately wished I could take back, but I couldn't.

First, I shouldn't have followed William to this godforsaken club.

Second, I definitely shouldn't have agreed to be indebted to a stranger I'd just met there.

And third—most damning of all—I shouldn't have kissed that stranger.

I blamed the drug—it had to be the drug that compelled me to do it, the drug was the reason I was currently feeling this good. Because if it wasn't… then why did everything feel so wrong yet so right?

Why did this sinful act, in this very moment, feel like the only thing I have ever wanted?

"Already dripping wet, are we?" the stranger murmured with a sly smirk, pulling away from the kiss. His wandering hands slid to my folds, drawing a shaky gasp from my lips as a wave of pleasure made my head fall back in bliss.

I arched my back, my eyes fluttering closed as I struggled to force myself back into control. I needed to stop whatever was happening with this man—it shouldn't be happening. None of it should. Yet, instead of the protest I should have spoken, entirely different words spilled from my lips.

"P-please, please, I want you so bad," I pleaded, my eyes snapping open to meet his. Those dangerous eyes burned with raw, unrestrained lust, mirroring my own.

"Please, Daddy." His lips curled into a subtle smile as he corrected me. His piercing gaze held mine captive as his thick fingers moved with deliberate slowness inside me.

"W-what?" I asked, clutching the sheets tightly, my breath rugged and uneven. I struggled to think straight, but it was useless, not when I was being toyed with by this man.

His voice dropped to a low, husky command. "It's Daddy to you. Say it."

My face burned a deep shade of red, and every fiber of my being wanted to refuse. How could I call a stranger that? I had never called William that, not even when he had begged me to during our most intimate moments.

But before I could form a protest, he quickened his pace, driving me to the brink and beyond. A wave of ecstasy crashed over me, and I surrendered completely. My toes curled, and my body trembled as I fell back onto the bed with a soft thud, my hand flying to my mouth to muffle the sounds spilling from my lips.

"Don't hold it in. Open your eyes and look at me while you say it," he commanded, his voice thick with undeniable lust, his intense gaze locking onto mine. I faltered under his dominance, every fiber of my willpower slipping away.

His fingers moved inside me with expert precision, leaving me breathless, while his lips trailed along my thighs, igniting a scorching heat in their wake. My back arched in response, and I was utterly consumed by the way he touched me, the way he owned every inch of my body.

"Look at me while I make you feel good, while I give you the best time of your life," he murmured, his voice a sinful promise I couldn't deny.

At that moment, I knew I couldn't pull away. No one had ever touched me like this—not even William.

The second the word he had commanded spilled from my lips, I realized just how badly I had messed up.

And that concluded my fourth mistake that night.

__

I groaned, my body aching so much it felt like I'd been hit by a bulldozer. I wanted to get up, knowing my mother-in-law would arrive any minute to yell at me, but I was too exhausted to move.

"One more minute, I will make breakfast in a minute." I mumbled, raising my hand to shield myself from the blinding sunlight pouring through the window.

When no one responded, I smiled in satisfaction. The rare silence of the early morning was a luxury I didn't often experience. I shifted to face the other side, but froze when my head collided with something hard... and warm.

It felt as though someone had dumped a bucket of ice-cold water over my head as the memories of last night came rushing back. I shot up faster than a startled cat, my hair flying in all directions as I gasped, slapping a hand over my mouth. My eyes widened in horror, refusing to glance at the jaw-droppingly gorgeous man lying naked beside me.

I took a shaky breath as my gaze dropped below, and I groaned, shutting my eyes at the sight of myself. Not only was I a contorted mess, but I had marks all over my body—my thighs, my stomach... Probably even my soul at this point. If my body below was this dramatic, I could only imagine what my neck looked like.

Yesterday had been—well, no words could fully capture what had happened. Honestly, I couldn't even count how many times this man had made me cum beneath him.

But that didn't matter now. I had to do what any sane person in my situation would do.

Run.

I took a shaky breath and stole one last glance at him before quietly scrambling to my feet, pretending the discomfort between my legs didn't exist. My underwear was nowhere to be found, and without any clothes of my own, I slipped into the man's shirt that was lying nearby.

As I crept toward the door, I could've sworn I felt a pair of eyes boring into my back.

I ran toward the exit of the club, ignoring the knowing glances that were thrown my way as I passed. I couldn't really blame them—after all, who wouldn't do a double-take when a woman looks like a disaster while running half-naked and barefoot? There were plenty of scenarios that could explain this scene, none of them good.

Finally, I made it outside, gasping for breath. I bent down, my hands on my knees as I tried to steady my breathing. The cold air hit my face, but it did little to calm the chaos inside me. My mind was still reeling from the events of the night. I remembered everything—everything my husband had done to me.

William, that bastard.

I straightened up and narrowed my gaze, hailing a cab. As I sank into the backseat, I wiped away the tears falling from my cheeks, my mind replaying the events that had shattered everything I thought I knew.

My heart ached, and my thoughts tangled into a mess. I had sacrificed my dreams, my future—the life I had once envisioned for myself—all for him. But he had torn it all down without a second thought.

Had he ever truly loved me? Or had it all been a lie from the beginning?

"We're here," the driver's annoyed voice snapped me back to reality. I looked up at the villa, a place that had once been home but now felt more like a cage.

I wiped away the last of my tears and handed the driver the fare. He muttered something under his breath, something about "another woman crying over a man" as he drove off.

I sighed and took a shaky breath, unsure whether to go inside or turn away, but before I could make up my mind, my legs carried me toward the villa. I knew I should've gone straight to the police and reported what William had done to me last night, but part of me wanted to hear what he had to say first.

Maybe—just maybe—he'd offer an explanation or even apologize. Anything that would make me forgive him.

But I was foolish to think that would happen. The very moment I stepped through the door, everything I hoped for came crashing down.

Before I could even get close to opening the door fully, my head whipped to the side, and I collapsed to the ground as my breath caught painfully in my throat.

"How dare you, Anastasia! How dare you do this?!"