Chapter 34
Aria’s POV
Devon stood aside, his steely gaze sweeping over me as I entered his penthouse. The door closed behind me with a soft click that somehow felt final. I'd been in luxury apartments before, but Devon's home was something else—sleek, minimalist, and imposingly elegant, much like the man himself.
"Standing there for what? Go shower," he commanded, his tone leaving no room for discussion as he turned away.
I watched him walk toward his living room, admiring the confident set of his shoulders beneath his crisp shirt. That was Devon Kane—decisive and direct, the same qualities that had built Kane Technology into the empire it was today. No unnecessary pleasantries, just pure efficiency.
I found my way to the master bathroom and pushed open the door, momentarily stunned by the opulence. Marble countertops stretched beneath gold-plated fixtures, while a massive walk-in shower and separate soaking tub dominated the space. Looking at my reflection in the oversized mirror, I couldn't help but smile mischievously.
If Devon was so eager to get me into bed, I'd make him wait a little longer.
Instead of using the shower, I began filling the deep tub. Searching through the cabinets, I discovered bath bombs—sandalwood scented, the same fragrance I often detected on Devon's skin. "Not bad taste," I murmured appreciatively.
I languished in the bathtub for forty minutes, enjoying the warm water and the power of making Devon Kane, of all people, wait for me. Steam clouded the mirrors and filled the bathroom with a pleasant haze.
"Are you finished yet?" Devon's deep voice came through the door, husky with barely contained desire.
I stifled a laugh. "I went so many places today, I'm filthy. I need to wash thoroughly. Have some patience, Mr. Kane," I called back, my voice deliberately light.
Twenty more minutes passed as I continued to dawdle in the tub. The water had started to cool, and I was finally preparing to rinse off in the shower when the door opened. Devon stood in the doorway, gray eyes darkened with desire. I stared wide-eyed, thinking: Damn, I forgot to lock the door.
"All this time and you're still covered in soap," he observed, his gaze trailing over my exposed skin above the water. "Since you clearly don't know how to bathe properly, perhaps I should teach you."
He methodically unbuttoned his shirt, movements slow and deliberate. His bronzed skin revealed perfect muscle definition that made me unconsciously swallow. After removing the rest of his clothing, he turned on the shower, hot water cascading down.
"Come here," he ordered.
I hesitated for a second before standing up, water streaming down my body and pooling on the marble floor. Devon's eyes locked onto me, burning with intensity that made my skin tingle.
When I approached, he pulled me into the shower stall, water immediately soaking us both. His lips crushed against mine with demanding force. I meant to resist, to maintain some semblance of control, but my body betrayed me, responding eagerly to his touch.
His hands explored every inch of my skin, movements both rough and tender. "This is the consequence of your deliberate delay," he whispered against my ear, "now face the consequences."
Water poured over our entangled bodies, steam enveloping us in our private world. Every touch from Devon sent electric currents through my nerve endings. My back pressed against the cool tiles, contrasting sharply with the heat of his body against mine.
At the height of passion, I sank my teeth into Devon's shoulder, leaving a clear mark—a small revenge, and perhaps a way to mark my territory.
Afterward, exhausted, I could barely stand. Devon lifted me out of the shower, wrapping me in a plush towel and drying me with unexpected gentleness that seemed completely at odds with his usual corporate persona.
I drifted in and out of sleep, vaguely aware of someone blow-drying my hair. Warm air moved through my damp strands, accompanied by gentle fingers combing through tangles. In my drowsy state, I thought: This can't be Devon, can it? Surely a business tycoon like him wouldn't bother with something so... domestic.
"Mmm..." I mumbled, sinking deeper into sleep.
Just before consciousness faded completely, I felt someone carefully brush hair from my face, the touch delicate as if I were something precious that might break.
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Morning light filtered through half-drawn curtains when I opened my eyes. I found myself lying in an enormous bed with deep gray Egyptian cotton sheets that felt luxuriously soft against my skin. Looking around, I realized this minimalist bedroom was unfamiliar territory.
The walls held no decoration except for a single abstract painting; dark wood furniture with clean lines dominated the space; a modern leather chair in the corner held my neatly folded clothes from last night.
That's when it hit me—I was in Devon Kane's bedroom. More significantly, this was the first night I'd ever spent at his place.
Pulling back the covers, I discovered I was completely naked. Memories of last night's shower encounter made my cheeks flush slightly. There was no sign of Devon anywhere in the room, just a glass of water and an aspirin on the nightstand.
"Typical rich man behavior—get what you want and disappear," I muttered to myself, my voice echoing in the spacious room.
As I prepared to get up, the bedroom door suddenly opened. Devon leaned against the doorframe, impeccably dressed in a charcoal custom suit, white shirt, and perfectly knotted tie. He looked completely prepared for a day of business meetings.
"Talking about whom?" he asked, one eyebrow raised, voice low.
His sudden appearance startled me, but I quickly regained my composure. "Oh, Mr. Kane, you're still here," I replied with deliberate cheerfulness, pulling the sheet up to cover myself.
"This is my apartment. Of course I'm here," he answered evenly, his eyes briefly scanning my bare shoulders.
I couldn't resist challenging him: "Considering we've had several 'business collaborations' now, Mr. Kane, could you possibly look at me with something other than that cold stare next time?" I asked with playful petulance, my voice deliberately provocative.
Devon's gaze intensified as he strode to the bedside, leaning down to trap me against the headboard. "It seems our contract needs an additional clause—keeping you satisfied," he said softly before claiming my mouth.