Tae-min's rough, burning fingers moved with agonizing slowness against the skin of her inner thigh, rising millimeter by millimeter beneath the delicate fabric of her dress. Every touch sent surges of pure electricity straight to her lower abdomen, melting years of frozen fear and replacing it with a wild fire of desire that Emma had never known in herself before.
His hot breath lashed against her neck, and his lips planted wet, open kisses along the line of her vein, which throbbed frantically. His massive, solid frame pressed her against the edge of the glass table, rubbing against her with a bold, raw arrogance that made her feel the full extent of his unforgiving arousal.
"Your body is melting in my hands, Emma..." Tae-min whispered in a husky, deep voice that vibrated with dark lust. His other hand slid from the nape of her neck to coil around her waist, yanking her until she was flush against him, leaving no air between their bodies.
Emma was heaving, her eyes half-closed, her mind drowning in a sea of delicious numbness. The scent of masculine musk and his faint sweat acted like a narcotic. But, as his fingers approached the burning center of her femininity with lethal slowness—nearly crossing the final threshold of control—the image of her father flashed in a dark corner of her mind.
That feeling of helplessness. That sensation of being nothing but a violated vessel.
Emma jolted.
But she didn't scream, and she didn't cry. Instead, she opened her amber eyes, which had turned into two embers of defiance. With a swift, sudden motion, her trembling hand caught Tae-min's powerful wrist, halting the crawl of his searing fingers up her thigh.
Tae-min stopped and lifted his head slowly, his brow furrowed with the irritation of interrupted pleasure, his obsidian eyes burning with an unquenched fire.
"I told you before, I am not your doll," Emma whispered, her chest heaving violently against his. Despite her body screaming for more of his touch, her will had been reborn from the womb of pain. "I will sign the contract. I will save your damn career, and I will take the money to build my life. But... on my terms."
Tae-min's eyes flickered with surprise, which then shifted into a dark admiration. She wasn't afraid; she was negotiating while in his arms, trapped and aroused. "Your terms?" he mocked in a low voice, leaning in until their noses touched. "And what are the terms of the konbini girl?"
Emma snatched the gold pen from the table with her free hand, while her other hand kept its grip on his wrist.
"Condition one: We act for the cameras only. Behind closed doors, you do not touch me, you do not come near me, and you do not impose your male dominance over me unless... I want it." She said it with a steadiness that surprised even herself.
"And if you want it?" he asked audaciously, leaning down to lightly bite her lower lip, forcing a stifled moan from her against her will. "Your body tells me you're going to want it a lot, Emma."
She ignored his mockery, though the blood was boiling in her veins. "Condition two: Kento. You won't lay a finger on him, and you won't harm his career at this hotel. If I find out you've used your influence to get him fired, I will stand before the press and expose everything, even if it costs me my life."
The muscles in Tae-min's jaw tightened at the mention of Kento's name. A black jealousy returned to gnaw at his chest. Why was she protecting that damn manager so fiercely?
Tae-min slowly withdrew his hand from under her dress, but he didn't move away. Instead, he caged her face with his large hands, forcing her to look directly into his eyes, which had turned into an abyss of blackness.
"You have your deal," Tae-min hissed, his voice dripping with danger. "But, since we're partners now, and since you've set the rules for behind closed doors... let me show you what we'll look like for the cameras."
Before she could process his words, he lunged at her lips.
It wasn't a kiss; it was a total invasion. He preyed upon her lips with a cruel hunger, forcing her mouth open to him, his tongue penetrating her, exploring every corner, drinking her in with the greed of a starving man. The kiss was deep, wet, and impossibly searing.
Emma raised her hands to push him back, but the moment her fingers touched the hardness of his chest muscles beneath the open silk, the shove turned into a desperate cling. His hands slid rapidly to the base of her back, gripping her backside with crushing force, lifting her slightly to seat her on the edge of the glass table. He then pushed between her open thighs, pressing against her with a force that made a cry of pleasure tear through her throat, only to be lost inside his mouth.
She was gasping, melting, and shattering in his arms. Every touch from him was a declaration of undeniable ownership. He was punishing her for mentioning another man's name, and at the same time, he was satisfying a savage hunger that had exploded inside him since the moment he first saw her.
When he finally pulled away, Emma was reeling. Her lips were heavily swollen and glistening from his touch, her breath was ragged, and her eyes were lost in the spell of the forbidden pleasure he had just drowned her in.
Tae-min wiped the corner of his mouth with his thumb, panting heavily as he looked at her with a predatory, satisfied gaze. "I think the press will believe we're madly in love after that."
Click!
The balcony door swung open suddenly, and Yura entered. She paused for a second, looking at Emma's position on the table, her disheveled hair, and Tae-min's open shirt. Her cold features didn't change.
"Playtime is over," Yura said sternly, tossing a large paper bag onto the sofa. "Security can no longer hold the paparazzi downstairs. The press has breached the lobby, and some have reached the hotel corridors. You need to go out now to give the first performance."
Yura turned to Emma with a sharp look. "Get rid of that maid uniform. There's a dress in the bag. You have three minutes to become a woman worthy of walking beside Rin Tae-min."
Emma climbed down from the table with difficulty, her legs barely able to support her. She took the bag and headed toward the marble bathroom with trembling steps. When she looked at herself in the mirror, she didn't recognize her reflection. The woman looking back had eyes burning with desire and rebellion, and lips that bore the marks of sin.
She put on the dress. It was a gown of pure black silk that clung to the curves of her body like a second skin, with a deep neckline that revealed much of her pale chest and a side slit that reached the top of her thigh. She didn't look like a poor maid; she looked like a goddess of seduction who had just descended from the Tokyo skyline.
When she emerged, Tae-min stopped buttoning his shirt. His pupils dilated, and he swallowed hard as he raked his hungry eyes over her body.
"You look..." Tae-min started, his voice failing him for a moment. "...Ready."
He approached her and extended his hand. Emma hesitated for a second, then placed her hand in his. The moment their skin touched, it sent that familiar electric current through her. He pulled her toward him, wrapping his powerful arm around her bare waist through the side slit of the dress, touching her skin directly with a boldness that made her shiver.
"Remember, Emma," he whispered in her ear as they walked toward the suite door. "Once we step out of this door, you are mine. Smile for the cameras, and let me handle the rest."
The elevator door opened in the lobby, and the moment they stepped out, hell exploded.
Hundreds of cameras, flashes lighting the place like a summer day, and the shouting voices of reporters rushing forward like crashing waves.
"Tae-min-san! Who is this girl?!" "Is she the same maid from the leaked photos?!" "Are you betraying your fans with an unknown foreign girl?!"
The reporters surrounded them, lunging toward them like beasts. Emma felt a surge of panic; her body trembled, and she instinctively tried to step back.
But Tae-min didn't let her retreat. He tightened his grip on her waist with overwhelming force, pulling her flush against his chest before hundreds of lenses. He raised his other hand and, with a theatrical display of masculine possessiveness, gripped the back of her head and hid her face in his chest to shield her from the flashes. He glared at the reporters with a fiery, arrogant look, like a lion protecting his mate from hyenas.
"Get out of my way," Tae-min roared in a booming voice that silenced everyone for a second, while his rough hand slid boldly and cunningly to rest on her backside through the thin silk before the cameras, declaring his exclusive ownership of her to the entire world. "And don't you dare frighten my future wife, or you will all be crushed."
Amidst the blinding flashes and Tae-min's searing hand on her body, Emma's eyes caught those of a man standing in the shadows far across the lobby.
It was Kento.
He stood there, watching Tae-min claim her before the world, his hazel eyes burning with a deep sorrow and a destructive rage that promised an impending war—one that would burn them all.