Traces of Him

POV: Valerie

I press the heels of my hands against my temples, desperately commanding my brain to stop replaying the intoxicating memories of last night. "Stop. Just stop right now." I speak the words aloud into the quiet room, hoping the sound of my own voice will ground me.

It does not work. The hotel room still smells heavily of sex and spent passion. Used condom wrappers litter the carpet beside the bed, serving as undeniable proof of our debauchery. My discarded clothes are strewn across the floor in a tangled mess. Even though the handsome stranger is gone, the visceral signs of his claiming are everywhere. At least he had the decency to dispose of the used condoms before he left, but the empty foil packages scattered near the nightstand mock my lingering arousal.

I stretch my arm across the mattress, grabbing my bag, and fumble inside to find my phone. I tap the screen to check for missed calls from my mother. The display is clear of notifications, but I gasp when I see the time. Panic surges through my chest. The afternoon is slipping away much faster than I anticipated. If I do not hurry, my mother will start calling me in a panic.

I try to swing my legs out of bed. "Argh..." A sharp, stinging ache shoots through my inner thighs and deep into my pelvis. It is a visceral souvenir of his rough pounding. Hard, relentless sex has truly taken its toll on my body. I have never felt this sore or this tender before. I need to take a shower, grab my things, and leave this place behind.

I push myself up on trembling legs and make my way into the bathroom. I flip the light switch and grip the edges of the sink. I gasp out loud at my reflection in the mirror. Dark purple hickeys blossom across my collarbones and trail all the way up the side of my neck. He sucked and bit at my skin with a primal hunger. Most of the bruises will be hidden by my clothes, but the dark marks on my neck are a glaring issue. I trace a finger over the bruised flesh. I will have to rely on thick layers of concealer and wearing my loose hair down to conceal the damning evidence of my indiscretion.

I step into the glass enclosure and turn the shower dial to scalding. The hot spray beats down on my bare shoulders. I grab the soap and scrub my skin vigorously. I want the running water to wash away the physical soreness. I desperately need it to wash away the residual humiliation of Derek's betrayal. I reach a soapy hand down between my legs to clean myself. My pussy is still slick, swollen, and incredibly sensitive from the relentless friction of his cock. I squeeze my eyes shut against the phantom heat. I need to get a grip on myself.

I spend another ten minutes applying makeup over my bruised neck, ensuring the hickeys are safely hidden. After dressing in my wrinkled clothes from yesterday, I hail a taxi and head straight home.

I push the front door open. "Mom, I'm home!"

Silence greets me at first. I drop my keys on the counter and wait in the hallway. A moment later, my mother emerges from her bedroom. My breath catches in my throat. She looks breathtaking in a pastel pink dress paired with delicate gold jewelry. She radiates a giddy, youthful glow that I have not seen on her face in years. The soft color flatters her skin, making her look vibrant and alive. Love clearly has a profound effect on her.

I lean against the wall and offer her a warm smile. "Wow, look at you. You are all dressed up and ready to go."

"Oh, Val! Welcome back," she says, smoothing down the front of her pristine dress. "What about you? You should get dressed too. We need to leave soon."

I laugh off her nervous eagerness. "Mom, we still have so much time. It is barely mid-afternoon. We have hours before the Sunday dinner with Arthur."

She pauses, a faint blush creeping up her cheeks, and lets out a shy laugh. "Oh, right. I suppose I got a little excited."

"I am going to rest for a bit. Do not worry about me. I will be dressed and ready to go long before we need to leave. I promise."

I retreat to my bedroom to sort out my outfit. I want to choose a dress that feels polite and classic. I pull an elegant, modest black V-neck dress from the hangers. The fabric hugs my curves without being flashy or revealing. I slip it on, pair it with a simple necklace and stud earrings, and check my reflection in the full-length mirror. My dark hair falls perfectly around my shoulders, hiding the layers of concealer on my neck. I look presentable. The anxious concealment is working.

I walk back out to the living room to join her. "Is this okay?"

My mother beams at me with bright eyes. "It is perfect. We need to head outside now. The driver is already here."

I blink in genuine surprise. "A driver?"

"Yes, Arthur sent a private chauffeur to drive us to his estate. Isn't that just the sweetest thing?" She lets out another joyous laugh and grabs her clutch purse.

I follow her out the front door. A sleek, pristine limousine idles silently by the curb. A man in a tailored uniform steps forward to hold the rear door open for us. Getting a wealthy fiancé is one thing, but a private chauffeur signals an entirely different bracket of money.

During the limousine ride, my mother chatters happily about the upcoming evening. I nod and offer polite responses, sinking into the plush leather seats. My mind struggles to process the sheer luxury of the vehicle as we cruise through the city.

The limousine eventually slows down, pulling away from the main roads. We glide through colossal wrought-iron gates that stand like guardians over a private domain. We drive onto the property, and sprawling, meticulously manicured gardens stretch out on either side of the driveway. My jaw literally drops. I press my face closer to the tinted window. Towering before us is an opulent, fairytale-like mansion. The sheer scale of the stone architecture is staggering. It makes the high-end architecture magazines I have seen look humble in comparison.

I knew Arthur was wealthy. I did not realize he possessed this kind of astronomical wealth. He is not merely rich. He belongs to an entirely different stratum of society. The uneasy luxury of it all makes my stomach flutter.

I lean closer to my mother. "This place is massive."

She whispers back, her eyes sparkling with immense pride. "Wait until you see the inside. It really is a sight to behold."

The chauffeur opens the door, and we step out onto the sweeping driveway. Two massive double doors stand open, leading straight into a breathtaking grand foyer. My mother links her arm securely through mine, and we cross the grand threshold together.

My mind is blown the second we step inside. I stand frozen near the entrance, taking in the sheer opulence. I marvel at the soaring ceilings adorned with intricate gold moldings. The flawless marble floors gleam like glass beneath our shoes. Even the luxurious five-star hotels I have visited do not compare to this majestic scale. We might live on the same planet, but we definitely do not exist in the same world.

Footsteps echo softly against the polished marble.

"Welcome. It is so good that you are both here." A warm, resonant male voice rings out from across the hall, greeting us inside his magnificent home.