"Give every man thy ear, but few thy voice."
                   —Polonius, Hamlet

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With bated breath, I waited for his assessment to come to an end. Was he having second thoughts? Right now? It was taking him too long to inspect every inch of me, and although it only roused me more, I couldn't help but let a sliver of doubt enter my mind. What if he would turn out like all those men? After all, he wasn't any less of an asshole than them.

After what felt like eons, he spoke up quietly, his voice gruff with desire. "So gorgeous. Too gorgeous."

His simple choice should have come off as disappointed, but the way his eyes were still latched onto my body said the opposite. He was too dumbfounded for words, it seemed. It made me regain some of the confidence I lost in the last few seconds.

"Well then, why don't you come and have a taste?" I asked him softly, my husky voice sending visible shivers down his spine.

I grinned in response, loving to see him so out of control, and strutted inside his penthouse. The last time I was here, I didn't get to look around, so I wanted to do some of that before the beast in him awakens and manhandled me. Again. And I knew I could always count on my intuition. Not even ten seconds later, I found a pair of arms wrapping around me and pulling me backwards.

"Don't test me, Scarlett. I'm not a patient man." He whispered huskily in my ear, before proceeding to rain kisses down the side of my neck.

I tilted my head to the side to give him access, and he took advantage of it like a starved man. The warmth of his large hands on my stomach erupted goosebumps on my skin, the delicious feeling starting to move places. His one hand moved upwards to cup my breast, while the other moved in the opposite direction, towards my core. He cupped my core roughly, making me moan and whimper a little too loudly. Before I could get embarrassed about my extremely vocal side, he spoke in a low tone.

"I love how I never get to hear this side of your voice in public. It makes this moment all the more special."

My eyes flew open as his words registered in my foggy mind. The bastard.

"No, it doesn't make it special. You only like it because you're an arrogant, possessive prick." I bit back, trying to control the waves of anger, that were threatening to wash over all the lust I felt for him.

He chuckled. "I thought we were over that phase of immature name calling? I guess not." And then, he proceeded to handle me even more roughly, knowing fully well that its how I like it.

Another insult rolled on the tip of my tongue, but the intense pleasure he was giving me, made it extremely difficult to open my mouth and form a coherent sentence.

"That's why I'm possessive with you. Because I know exactly how to control a demanding and mouthy woman like you, and put her mouth to some good use for once."

He spoke up again, and I was seriously considering putting duct tape over his mouth. Too bad, I won't be able to kiss his luscious lips then. It doesn't matter, at least he won't be able to torture and insult me anymore.

I could feel his coarse fingers intruding at my entrance, working his way around, and bringing me to the brink of insanity. I gripped his toned arm in a vice-like grip as I reached my first high. Panting heavily, my body loosened, to the extent that I wanted to slump down on the inviting and warm carpeted floor, but Isaac's strong arms encased me tightly.

Instead, I rested my head on his chest, while he picked me up bridal style and carried me further into the apartment. He dropped me onto the couch, while he disappeared for a while. As I slowly got down from my high, I saw Isaac re-enter the living room with a glass of water in hand.

Wordlessly, he pushed it towards me, and I accepted it. Not knowing how parched I really was until I saw the liquid, I downed it all at once, slamming the cool glass on the coffee table nearby. He raised an eyebrow at me in amusement, but thankfully said nothing.

"So, now that you have cooled down a little, are you ready for the next?" He asked me, all the while casually unbuttoning his waistcoat.

I hadn't even realized that he was still fully clothed, while he stripped me of everything I wore, except the lacy black thong, which was a superb idea. Glaring at him, I childishly responded,

"I'm not going any further now. I'm tired, and sated."

He raised an eyebrow again, but not out of mere amusement, this one had a challenging edge to it. "That's it? Don't tell me that's your limit. And who told you that you could control when we were done? It's my place, and tonight, I make the rules."

He leaned down at the last sentence, making sure I heard every last breath of his. I gulped, momentarily intimidated by him. My eyes travelled to his bulky arms, and the broad chest which was more visible, now that the waistcoat was discarded. He leaned back and slowly unbuttoned his shirt, not breaking eye contact with me even once.

I was starting to think it was one of his kinks, but it just felt so good that I could feel it was soon going to become one of my favorites. Just from a little eye contact, my stable breathing increased, and I found myself at the verge of breathlessness. What the hell?

Those chocolate brown orbs of his were sinful, pulling me in like a possessed person. They broke down all my defenses, and left me feeling vulnerable, something I haven't felt in years. I was actually afraid of him, his eyes, his calculative mind, because I could never know what he was thinking. He was hot one second, then cold the other. He seemed to have read me inside out, but I couldn't figure him out, no matter how much I tried. And that terrified me – that inability to control someone's mind – shook me to my bones.

It was then, that I realized for the first time since I met him, the fact that I was playing a very dangerous game. Entangling myself with him would bring a hell lot of uncertainty in my life, something I didn't match well with. Would I be able to handle it? Would I be able to handle him?

But, I didn't get a chance to ponder over my queries and doubts as I felt him climbing on top of me, in all his naked glory. Distracted by his firm torso, and his hands tearing my thong away, I decided to keep my worries on the backseat for now.

If I couldn't handle him, I would just have to find a way.

Why was everything feeling so heavy? What the hell did I wear while sleeping last night? Not wanting to deal with this uncomfortable situation, I tried to push the heaviness away, but it just wouldn't budge. Unwillingly opening my eyes, I found someone's arm draped around me. I sighed, groaning internally. Not again. I thought it would be better to take a look at who the man was, so that I could at least try to remember him.

But turns out my choice was wrong. One look at this man brought back a shitload of memories of last night. Turns out, not only did I instantly recognize the man sleeping beside me, but also all the things we did last night, very vividly. And just at that unfortunate moment, it seemed that the alcohol in my system had also decided to take its leave, leaving me in an extremely awkward position.

I panicked internally as the realization dawned on me — I had, very voluntarily, engaged in physical intimacy with my colleague, for the second time, and I didn't know how to handle it.

I was adept in picking up men and dumping them cold-heartedly, knowing that I wouldn't be meeting them again. But this makes it an entirely different case. How did I – the woman who doesn't even remember half of her colleague's names – get engaged so hard and so quick with a stranger? A stranger I would have to see everyday at work? This was why I was never allowed to take a decision when drunk.

Wanting to avoid an awkward confrontation, I decided to quietly slip from his hold. If he was fast asleep, he wouldn't notice me sneaking out of his house. But I was again, proved wrong. Just as I thought I was free to escape his hold, I felt his arm snake around me in a vice-like grip, pulling me back against his very warm chest.

"Trying to go somewhere, kitten?"

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