The Walk Of Shame

Elena jolted awake with a violent start, her skull immediately pounding with a piercing, alcohol-induced headache that made her wince in agony. She squeezed her eyes shut, groaning softly as a wave of disorientation washed over her. When she finally forced herself to blink against the harsh morning light pouring through the massive bedroom windows, the reality of her surroundings hit her like a physical blow.

Turning her head against the expensive pillows, a powerful spark of physical desire surged straight through her core. Dominic was sprawled out beside her on the massive mattress, completely naked and deeply asleep. The heavy sheets had pooled around his waist, putting his broad, heavily muscled chest and his thick, flaccid penis on full display. Even now, exhausted and unguarded, he was physically breathtaking. Despite knowing logically that she absolutely shouldn't feel this way, her mouth went dry. Her body physically ached, instantly craving his touch all over again. Breathless, graphic memories of their passionate night together flooded her throbbing brain with crystal clarity. She vividly remembered the brutal, delicious friction of his hard cock sliding deep inside her soaking wet vagina. She remembered how his heavy thrusts had stretched her to her absolute limit, the way his thick thumb had relentlessly rubbed her swollen clitoris until she screamed out her orgasms, and the hot, messy reality of their naked bodies sliding together in sweat.

As deliciously ravished and entirely physically satisfied as she felt in that exact moment, sheer panic suddenly set in, pouring over her like a bucket of ice water. She absolutely had to escape this house before he woke up. The absolute last thing she wanted to endure was an awkward, stilted morning-after chat about a temporary lapse in judgment with a billionaire. Especially a billionaire who was supposedly getting married to another woman in just a few days.

Frantically, Elena pushed herself up and scanned the sprawling bedroom, ignoring the dizzying sway of the room. She dropped to her hands and knees, searching the matte wooden floors and checking under the discarded blankets. Panic choked her throat. She found herself completely unable to locate her missing dress, and her pink lacy underwear had vanished without a single trace. She was entirely naked, vulnerable, and running out of time. Desperate to cover her bare skin, she spotted Dominic’s oversized denim shirt crumpled on the rug. She hurriedly threw it on, quickly fastening the buttons over her bare breasts. She grabbed her phone from the nightstand, snatched up her stilettos, and tiptoed frantically out of the bedroom, leaving him sleeping soundly behind her.

She hurried down the grand glass staircase, her bare feet making practically no sound against the cold steps. As she reached the cavernous foyer, she finally spotted her trench coat. It was lying in a miserable, discarded heap right at the foot of the stairs. As she bent over to retrieve the heavy fabric, she shook violently. A vivid physical memory hit her completely unprompted—the feeling of his large, calloused hands gripping her bare skin, pinning her against the wall as he tore her clothes off. She forced herself to snap out of the intoxicating daze, violently shaking her head.

"Focus!" she muttered aloud, the sound of her own voice startling her in the quiet house. As deliriously thrilling as the sexual encounter was, it was definitively over. She had to put Dominic Sterling completely behind her.

Clutching her heels and shrugging into her coat, Elena attempted to make a dignified, stealthy exit through the massive front door. Her plans were immediately thwarted. She walked straight into a wall of crisp professionalism, practically colliding with the estate's impeccably dressed butler, Davis. He was flanked by a bevy of uniformed housekeepers holding cleaning supplies, all of them turning to look at her simultaneously.

"Stephen will drive you home, Miss—?" Davis intercepted her pleasantly, offering a polite smile that made Elena want to crawl into a hole and die.

Shaking her head rapidly, Elena felt her cheeks burn with absolute humiliation. She attempted to deflect the offer, stepping backward. "That's okay. I will just call a taxi."

A housekeeper stepped forward, intervening with a patient, practiced tone. "I am sorry, Miss, but external taxis are strictly forbidden from entering the gates. Because of the private, highly secured nature of the estate, they cannot come inside." Before Elena could argue, the housekeeper attempted to reassure her by casually adding, "Please don't worry, we do this all the time, drive Mr. Sterling's guests home."

That meant-to-be-comforting reassurance had the exact opposite effect on Elena. It felt like a brutal slap to the face. Confronted abruptly by the harsh, clinical reality of her alcohol-fueled mistake, she was immediately flooded with intense fury and deep shame directed entirely toward herself. She wasn't special. She was exactly what she feared she was—just another notch on his bedpost. She was just another random, disposable body in his endless revolving door of hookups. The only tiny sliver of comfort she could cling to was the vivid memory of seeing the shiny foil condom wrappers discarded on the bedroom floor upstairs. It was physical proof that they had at least used protection during their wild hours, ensuring she wouldn't walk away with a disease from his parade of women.

Elena snapped out of her shame-fueled daze, realizing Davis was still speaking to her. "I'm sorry, could you repeat that?" she asked, her voice tight and defensive.

Davis smiled politely once more. "I asked if you would like a fresh breakfast before you depart, Miss."

Dumbfounded, Elena could only gawk at him. She stared at the butler as a sickening realization settled heavily in her chest. This incredibly rehearsed routine was clearly part of the standard 'Dominic Experience.' It was a polite, luxurious breakfast offered on a silver platter to seamlessly lessen the sting of being a disposable one-night stand. He threw his random women out and made them his staff's problem the moment he was done fucking them.

Her face pulled taut with anger. "No, thank you," she spat out curtly. Her mind was entirely consumed by a desperate longing to escape to the dingy safety of her cramped shared apartment, lock her bedroom door, and cry herself sick.

"Very well then," Davis replied without missing a beat. He expertly escorted her outside, opening the heavy front doors to reveal a waiting, pristine Lexus parked in the endless driveway.

Slipping low into the plush leather of the back seat, Elena tossed her stilettos onto the floor mats. She fervently wished she could just melt right into the expensive upholstery and evaporate from existence. The heavy doors clicked shut, trapping her in the quiet, air-conditioned luxury of the vehicle.

In the rearview mirror, Stephen the driver caught her eye. "Where to, Miss?" he asked in a calm, professional tone.

Elena silently screamed in her head that she wanted to go anywhere but here. She wanted to disappear off the face of the earth. But her rational mind forced her to take a deep, shaky breath. She knew this deeply humiliating situation wasn't the driver's fault. And honestly, it wasn't truly Dominic's fault either. She had willingly jumped into a stranger's bed. She had blatantly ignored her friends' earlier warnings about him. She knew all about his impending wedding to another woman, and she had known with absolute certainty that she would face her own crushing morning regret. Yet, she had spread her legs for him anyway.

When she remained silent for too long, Stephen's thick eyebrows fused in a tight frown. "Miss?" he repeated, his voice prompting her for an answer.

Elena swallowed the massive lump of shame lodged in her throat. She softly instructed him, "Just drop me off at the nearest bus stop."

She internally resolved to take an Uber from that completely neutral location. The less she had to do with Dominic and his highly trained staff, the better. She absolutely could not risk letting his personal driver know where she actually lived in Cedar Glen. She had to ensure their one-time, desperate mistake would completely disappear into the morning air, severing all ties so it would never, under any circumstances, become a repeat occurrence.