Out of the Blue: Love Strikes Between Me and the CEO

The hot, humid breath on her neck felt unfamiliar.

A strong hand was kneading her breast while the other hand moved down her back to her buttocks, caressing her smooth, delicate skin and slowly approaching her genitals. He kissed her neck, teasing her with both hands and mouth while she clung to his shoulders, softly moaning, her hips involuntarily lifting. This subtle movement encouraged him. He spread her tender legs, pressing his erect genitals against her vagina. The warmth and wetness made him lean forward. Her muffled groan made him pause, and though she wanted to cry out from the pain, her dry mouth prevented it. She could only claw at his back, which only excited him more. The tightness around his penis drove him to thrust harder. With each inch he pushed in, she groaned in pain, tears streaming down her face.

In the darkness, her continuous weak protests mixed with shy moans, rising and falling with their breaths.

In the morning, Layla Adkins felt sore all over. She struggled to lift her aching eyelids and weakly looked around.

In the unfamiliar hotel room, clothes were scattered everywhere.

She glanced sideways and saw a bloodstain on the sheet, glaring and mocking her.

Layla felt a pang in her heart.

The memories of last night suddenly flooded back.

'My boyfriend was gone, and I had given my first time to a stranger, to a...' Her heart ached as she rubbed her temples.

Taking a deep breath, she knew regret wouldn't change anything. She could only swallow her tears.

The sound of water stopped, and a tall man emerged from the bathroom, around thirty years old and exuding the charm of maturity. Standing over 6 feet 2 inches with a chiseled body and eight-pack abs glistening with water, he looked incredibly sexy. Layla shivered as she met his gaze. His features were sharp and defined, but his eyes were cold like a frozen lake.

She had never seen such cold eyes, reminding her of a beast's gaze.

Layla suppressed her panic and looked back at him.

Although he had a strong presence, she was the client and deserved respect.

"Name a price," the man said coldly.

'Was he asking me to pay based on his service quality?' Layla, puzzled, took out five hundred dollars in cash from her wallet and handed it to him.

Samuel Holland frowned as he stared at her young, innocent face, with big eyes like a doll's.

He had asked her to name a price, and she gave him money instead. Did she think he was a 'sex worker'? Such imagination for someone so young.

Seeing him still deep in thought and not taking the money, Layla assumed he found it a bit stingy.

She didn't know the rates for 'sex workers,' but judging by his looks and physique, he should be quite popular.

Layla remarked, "I only have this much cash. Give me your card number later, and I'll transfer you 700 dollars."

Samuel raised an eyebrow, his already cold face making the room even chillier.

'Is he worried I won't pay later?' She thought.

Layla, feeling cornered, said, "Your service last night wasn't great. It hurt a lot. I'm only giving you this much because you tried hard."

Though she said this, she was actually very nervous, afraid he would extort her.

Wrapping herself in the sheet, Layla bent down to pick up her clothes, but in her nervousness, she tripped over a chair. The sheet was pulled away, leaving her completely exposed.

Samuel's cold eyes deepened.

Her smooth, flawless skin glowed, with her delicate, slender neck leading to soft, rounded shoulders...