Bathroom Confrontation

POV: Author.

A violently pounding headache assaulted Aria the exact second her heavy eyelids fluttered open. She groaned, arching her spine into the mattress as the brutal hangover crashed into her skull. But the physical pain was instantly eclipsed by something far worse. Crystal-clear, highly explicit memories of the previous night slammed into her brain. The images played behind her eyes like a vivid, permanent tattoo. She felt the heavy, intoxicating touch of Vance’s large hands roaming over her bare skin. She felt the wet, scorching heat of his mouth. She could still feel the miraculous, devastating workings of his tongue circling her tight nipples, dragging her kicking and screaming right over the edge of sanity.

Her body shuddered in the empty bed. A deep, phantom throb pulsed between her thighs as she remembered the way her pussy had clamped down, the way she had violently squirted all over his expensive dress shirt. Aria dug her fingernails into her scalp. She desperately tried to summon genuine guilt. She had a boyfriend. She was supposed to be loyal to Preston. She squeezed her eyes shut and forced herself to picture Preston’s face, begging her conscience to punish her for physically cheating on him.

The guilt never came.

The horrifying, agonizing realization hit her like a freight train. The only true remorse she could actually feel this morning was for shamelessly throwing her own body at Vance. She felt cheap, not because she had betrayed Preston, but because Vance had initially rejected her, and she had still begged for his cock. She hated herself for the fact that she was currently lying in bed, craving that mind-melting feeling again. Her inner thighs were already slick with fresh wetness just from the memory of his thick fingers. She had to run. She had to get as far away from him as possible to avoid giving into this dark, overwhelming addiction.

Aria threw off the blankets and rushed into the bathroom. She showered with the water running freezing cold, scrubbing her skin raw in a useless attempt to wash away his lingering scent. She dressed quickly in a modest sweater and jeans. She grabbed her bag and opened her bedroom door, fully intending to sprint down the stairs.

Heavy, deliberate footsteps echoed from down the hall.

Aria froze. Through the crack in the door, she caught a glimpse of Vance’s towering frame walking steadily toward her room. Her heart leaped into her throat. She slammed her door shut and locked it as quietly as possible, pressing her back flush against the wood. Her chest heaved. A sharp knock hit the door right behind her spine, sending a jolt of electricity straight down to her clitoris. She clamped a hand over her mouth, holding her breath. She stood perfectly still for several agonizing minutes until she finally heard Vance sigh deeply and walk back toward his own room.

Aria did not waste a single second. Once the coast was clear, she slipped out through a side exit, completely dodging Vance. She skipped breakfast entirely and ordered her driver to take her straight to Oakridge College.

Fleeing the house did absolutely nothing to fix her mind. Her entire day at school was consumed by the phantom sensations of Vance's burning gaze on her skin. She sat in the middle of her lecture hall, staring blankly at the whiteboard, while her body practically vibrated. She kept imagining his large hands sliding up her thighs. She kept feeling the ghost of his hot breath against her neck. It was driving her insane. She was desperate for any distraction, anything loud and chaotic enough to wipe her mind clean of Vance and his magical, dirty tongue.

The bell rang, signaling the end of the afternoon classes. Aria shoved her books into her bag and turned abruptly to her friend Chloe.

"We need to hit a nightclub tonight. Find us the loudest one."

Chloe stared at her with wide, dumbfounded eyes. Aria was never the clubbing type. She preferred quiet libraries and upscale cafes.

"You are up with a new game, girl. When did you start clubbing?" Chloe asked, a thick hint of surprise coloring her voice.

"I just want to let loose tonight. My father kept me locked up for so long because he was terrified I might get taken advantage of. I need a drink." Aria lied smoothly, rolling her eyes to sell the performance.

She hated loud crowds. She hated the sticky floors of nightclubs. But she needed a heavy shot of tequila. She needed the blinding strobe lights to burn the image of Vance’s face out of her brain.

"Oh my goodness! This calls for a celebration!" Chloe shrieked happily, earning annoyed glares from the students passing by in the hallway.

"Keep your voice down, Chloe, you are making a scene." Aria managed a small, genuine smile for the first time all day.

"What about Vance? Won't your strict, gorgeous guardian get incredibly mad if he finds out you snuck into a club?" Chloe raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"Give it a rest with your idol worship, Chloe. Nobody is going to tell him. He is never going to find out." Aria stated firmly, pulling out her phone to search for a venue.

Later that evening, the trio arrived at a bubbling, chaotic nightclub in downtown Seattle. Aria had spent an hour at the mall with Chloe and Preston, determined to shed her innocent, good-girl image for the night. She completely commanded the room the second she stepped through the front doors. She was dressed provocatively in a skin-tight, black leather mini skirt that barely covered her ass. It rode dangerously high up her thighs with every step she took, leaving absolute zero to the imagination. On her upper half, she wore a cropped, oversized boyfriend tee that exposed her flat stomach and belly button. Printed aggressively across her chest in thick, sultry black letters was a highly explicit command: *suck me*.

She strutted through the packed dance floor, her towering heels clicking against the neon-lit tiles. Every eye in the club drifted toward the perfect sway of her hips. Preston walked closely behind her, his hands resting comfortably and intimately on her bare waist, staking a public claim on her.

They settled at a busy booth right next to the glowing bar.

"Three bottles of your best vodka." Preston shouted over the deafening bass, flashing a card at the bartender.

Aria sank into the leather booth. Preston slid in right beside her, keeping his arm draped heavily around her lower back. His thumb absentmindedly stroked the bare skin of her waist. Aria grabbed a shot glass the second the bottles arrived, pouring the clear alcohol down her throat, praying it would numb the persistent ache between her legs.

Unbeknownst to them, high above the chaotic dance floor, the VIP section offered a perfect, unobstructed view of the entire club.

Vance sat in a plush velvet chair, nursing a glass of expensive whiskey. After a brutal, exhausting day at his fashion studio, he had reached out to his close friend Zane to grab a drink somewhere quiet, somewhere his crazed fans wouldn't recognize him. The VIP balcony was dark, elevated, and strictly off-limits to the public.

Vance lifted his glass to his lips. His sharp gray eyes casually scanned the moving crowd below. The glass halted inches from his mouth.

His eyes locked onto a familiar head of hair. Then, they dropped to the tight leather skirt. Then, they snapped to the cropped white tee. Finally, they zeroed in on the male hands lingering casually on Aria’s bare waist.

A raging, uncontrollable fire erupted within Vance’s chest. The blood in his veins turned to liquid magma. The whiskey glass in his hand groaned under the sudden, violent pressure of his grip. Aria looked stunning. Her dark eyeliner and deep red lipstick made her look older, wilder, and incredibly dangerous. But the sight of Preston’s hands gripping her hips sent a wave of pure, lethal jealousy straight into Vance’s brain.

His vision went completely red. Without a single word, Vance rose from his seat in blind fury. His massive chest heaved beneath his dark tailored shirt. He stepped toward the glass railing, fully intent on storming down the stairs, ripping that boy’s arms out of their sockets, and violently dragging Aria out of the building.

Zane noticed the murderous shift in his friend's demeanor. He leaped out of his chair and forcefully shoved both hands into Vance’s chest, pushing him hard back into the velvet seat.

"Sit down, Vance. Sit the fuck down before you cause a media riot." Zane ordered desperately, struggling to keep the massive man pinned to the chair.

Vance’s muscles were coiled like steel cables. He glared down at the dance floor, his chest rising and falling in harsh, ragged breaths. He forcefully shoved Zane’s hands away, but he remained seated, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the armrests.

"Some bastard is holding onto my property." Vance growled, his voice dropping into a dark, terrifying octave.

Zane blinked, his face twisting into utter confusion. He looked around the club, trying to follow Vance’s murderous gaze.

"You don't even have a girlfriend, Vance. Who the hell is your property?" Zane asked, genuinely baffled.

"That lady down there belongs to me." Vance snarled, pointing a thick, aggressive finger directly at Aria's booth.

Zane leaned over the glass railing, squinting through the strobe lights.

"Is that not Aria? Thorne's daughter?" Zane arched an eyebrow, looking back at Vance. "What is she doing in a club dressed like that?"

"Are you asking me, dummy? I came here with you." Vance snapped aggressively, his eyes never leaving Preston's hands on Aria's skin.

"What is with the insane jealousy, man? How is she supposed to be your property?" Zane pressed, waving a hand in the air.

"She is strictly under my care, Zane. It is my absolute duty to monitor her." Vance replied coldly, trying and failing to conceal the toxic, possessive venom leaking into his tone.

"Right. So what do you intend to do about it?"

"I am going to fire her driver tonight. I will replace him with a team of guards. And then, I am going to teach her a lesson she will never, ever forget." Vance stated, his gray eyes blazing with a dark, unyielding promise.

He stared down at the bold words printed across her chest. *suck me*. His jaw ticked. He was going to punish her exactly how she asked for it. He sat back in his chair, ignoring Zane completely, silently plotting the exact physical retribution he was going to inflict on her disobeying, beautiful body.

Down below on the loud, chaotic club floor, Preston leaned in close to Aria. He tried to initiate a kiss, but Aria subtly turned her head, letting his lips brush her cheek instead. Every time Preston touched her, her body rejected it. It felt wrong. It lacked the heavy, dominating heat that Vance radiated.

Preston reached across the table to grab the vodka bottle. As he pulled it back, his elbow clipped a stray glass of red wine left by a previous customer. The crimson liquid splashed directly onto the front of Aria’s white cropped tee, soaking into the fabric just below the explicit text.

"Oh my God!" Aria gasped, jumping up from the leather booth and brushing at the wet stain.

"Shit, I am so sorry, Aria. I am really, really sorry." Preston scrambled to grab napkins, his face flushing with embarrassment.

"It is fine. Stop. I will just go use the restroom." Aria waved him off, eager for an excuse to get away from the crowded table.

She turned on her heel and navigated through the sweaty, grinding bodies on the dance floor. She pushed open the heavy black door of the women's restroom. Thankfully, it was completely empty. The loud thumping bass from the club was muffled behind the thick walls. Aria walked up to the marble sink, turning on the cold water. She grabbed a handful of paper towels, wetting them and dabbing aggressively at the red wine stain on her stomach.

She was so focused on scrubbing the fabric that she didn't hear the bathroom door open. She didn't hear the heavy click of the lock turning.

"Are you in Seattle to club, or to go to school?"

An abruptly stern, deeply masculine voice echoed off the bathroom tiles.

The blood instantly froze in Aria’s veins. The wet paper towels slipped from her trembling fingers, dropping into the marble sink. Fear and a massive, terrifying spike of arousal gripped her spine. Her heart clenched, missing several beats. She recognized that dark, gravelly tone instantly.

She slowly turned around.

Vance stood leaning against the locked bathroom door. His towering, broad frame completely blocked her only path of escape. The dimmed bathroom lights cast harsh shadows over his sharp jawline. He looked like a predator cornering his prey.

"Are you suddenly deaf, Aria? Or are you just too cowardly to look me in the eye?" Vance demanded.

Aria felt her legs buckle. Fear surged through every vein in her body, but right beneath the terror, her pussy began to violently throb. The memories of yesterday morning flooded her brain. The stern authority in his voice was doing exactly what she had sworn to avoid. It was turning her on.

Before she could form a single word, Vance closed the distance between them in two massive strides. His large hands shot out, gripping her bare arms with bruising force. He shoved her backward, aggressively pinning her roughly against the cold bathroom wall.

"Who was that guy?" Vance yelled right into her face.

His gray eyes blazed with cold, terrifying anger. The sheer masculine dominance radiating off him was suffocating. Aria trembled violently against the tiles. She had never seen this monstrous, unhinged side of him.

"Answer me!" Vance roared, his grip tightening on her arms.

A terrified, broken whimper escaped Aria’s lips. Hot tears rapidly welled in her eyes, spilling over her lashes and tracking down her flushed cheeks.

The exact second the tear hit her skin, Vance’s monstrous facade immediately crumbled. The violent anger in his eyes shattered, instantly replaced by a deep, aching, consuming possessiveness. His chest heaved as he stared at her crying eyes. He let go of her arms, his massive hands moving up to gently cup her soft cheeks.

"Shh."

Vance slid a thick, calloused finger directly into her mouth to silence her. He pressed his finger down on her tongue, dragging it slowly over her bottom lip. Aria gasped around his digit. She rested the back of her head against the wall, utterly paralyzed. Her vaginal walls clamped down on empty air. Her panties were already soaking wet from the simple, dominant intrusion of his finger in her mouth.

"I do not want you near anybody else, momma." Vance whispered, his voice a compelling, vibrating hum that sent massive sparks of undeniable pleasure straight to her core.

He leaned his heavy body fully against hers, trapping her between the cold wall and his rock-hard chest. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling her unique, sweet scent deeply into his lungs.

"Only I have the right to your fucking body, momma." Vance stated, his teeth roughly grazing the sensitive skin of her neck, making her violently shudder. "Only I have the right to touch you. Do not ever give my property out to anyone else."

He squeezed her hips, his large hands branding the bare skin above her leather skirt. His voice was dark, compelling, and dripping with an absolute authority that pushed her right to the very edge of exploding.

"I would never dare." Aria breathed out subconsciously.

She surrendered completely. She was utterly consumed by the intoxicating arousal she had sworn that very morning to avoid. Her rational mind screamed at her to push him away, to remind him of Preston, to scream for help. But her body had completely betrayed her. She needed him.

Vance pulled back slightly. His darkened, hungry gaze raked over every single inch of her trembling body. He stared down at her swollen lips, her heaving chest, and the tight leather skirt riding up her thighs.

In one swift, incredibly powerful motion, Vance grabbed her waist and hoisted her straight up into the air. He slammed her down onto the cold marble sink. He stepped squarely between her thighs, aggressively spreading her legs wide open. His large palms slid down to cup her soft ass, his thick fingers digging into her flesh right through the leather fabric.

Aria’s chest heaved. She gripped the edges of the marble sink to steady herself.

Vance’s eyes dropped to the bold, black text resting directly across her breasts. *suck me*.

"I am going to punish you in the exact ways that your clothes have commanded, momma." Vance vowed, his husky voice dripping with dark, twisted intent. "I am going to suck you until you can no longer feel your fucking legs."

Aria shook uncontrollably. She couldn't speak. She could only stare down at his broad shoulders, feeling the hard, heavy bulge of his dick pressing directly against her inner thighs through his trousers.

"The sultry wish of your clothes is the desired command of my tongue." Vance whispered, leaning in closer.

Without breaking eye contact, Vance pushed the hem of her tight leather skirt high up her thighs, bunching the material around her waist. His knuckles brushed against her swollen, dripping pussy through the thin cotton of her panties. Aria let out a sharp, pathetic whine at the contact.

Vance did not hesitate. He swiftly and forcefully hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties, ripping the soaked fabric straight down her legs. He stripped them away completely, balling the ruined underwear up in his massive fist. He slipped the wet fabric directly into his own pocket.

He stepped closer, wedging his hips firmly against the marble sink. He looked down, his eyes turning pitch black as he prepared to intimately taste the immediate, dripping wet evidence of his absolute control over her body.