Falling for the Goddess

A Poisoned Trap

Sara Hart was in the shower in her room while Adrian Blake, as usual, went to the neighboring guest room. They'd fallen into this routine lately: arriving home by nine, taking time to handle their affairs, chatting briefly, then turning in for the night.

After the incident with the nightgown a while back, Sara had returned to her usual short-sleeved sleepwear. But tonight, she opened her closet only to find that all her pajamas had disappeared, leaving only the silk camisoles that Grandmother had bought for her.

She figured Aunt Alice must have taken them to be washed and didn't think much of it. Reluctantly, she reached for a pale lavender camisole - the other choices were a bold black and a bright red.

She lingered under the hot water a little longer than usual, feeling oddly warm. When Adrian returned to his room, she stepped out of the bathroom, wrapped in the lavender camisole. Adrian's gaze darkened as she crossed the room, his throat tightening as he felt a strange heat rise inside him.

The soft lavender camisole set off the delicate fairness of Sara's skin, almost luminescent under the dim light. Her hair fell loosely over her shoulders, and her exposed back gleamed in the soft light. She exuded an innocence, yet the graceful contours of her figure hinted at a subtle allure that left Adrian inexplicably parched.

Forcing himself to look away, Adrian raised the glass of milk on his nightstand and took a sip, hoping the cool liquid would settle him. Sara, too, found her heart racing as she looked at him, feeling inexplicably warm. She couldn't help but linger on the curve of his jaw, the set of his lips, the line of his neck. The air between them grew tense and charged.

They exchanged a glance, and the silence suddenly felt heavy.

"Are we... going to sleep?" Sara's voice was softer than usual, almost hesitant.

"Yes," Adrian replied, his voice rougher than he intended.

The room grew darker as the lights were turned off, yet the warm haze between them seemed to grow thicker. Sara tossed and turned, feeling unbearably warm. It was autumn, but she felt as though she were in the height of summer. She tugged at her covers, unable to get comfortable, her breathing shallow.

Adrian lay on his side, feeling restless, too. The faint sound of her shifting, of her soft breaths, of her presence next to him—all of it stoked a strange desire within him. He tried to shut out the image of her delicate collarbone, her slender neck, the soft glow of her skin under the light...

And then he felt it.

A deep, pulsating heat.

A steady ache that grew sharper and more insistent, unyielding. His grip tightened on the sheets as he struggled to contain himself.

"Adrian... can we turn on AC?" Her voice came in a gentle whisper, laced with something he could hardly identify but that unsettled him further.

He didn't answer, but she shifted to find the remote on the nightstand. As she reached over, she lost her balance and fell toward him.

Her hand pressed against his chest. She froze just as he stilled beneath her.

"I..."

But before she could say anything, his hand closed around her waist, searing against her skin.

"Adrian..." she breathed, her voice trembling and soft, her breath brushing his neck. He shut his eyes, trying to rein in the urge pulsing through him. But that whisper, the warmth of her breath against his skin, unraveled his control. Without a word, he turned his head and kissed her.

The kiss was unpracticed, raw, and filled with an urgent need that left little room for anything else. His hand roamed over the delicate curve of her waist, his touch burning where it landed. His kisses grew fervent, demanding as if he were drowning, and she was the only air he had.

Caught off guard, Sara's mind raced, barely able to process what was happening before he lifted her and turned, leaving her beneath him. The quiet room was filled with the sound of their heavy breathing.

Her mind flashed with a fleeting sense of clarity, a desperate voice in the back of her mind urging her to stop him. But he held her hands above her head, and his voice, now dark and gravelly, murmured, "Isn't this what you wanted?"

A wave of anger, pain, and hurt filled his eyes as he looked down at her. In the darkness, he seemed almost a stranger, consumed by something fierce and unrelenting.

The night unfolded in a heated haze, a series of feverish moments, one after another.

---

By the time the wall light clicked on, it was nearly three in the morning.

The room was bathed in the soft glow of the night light, casting shadows over the messy bed. The sheets were tangled together, a telltale sign of the night's tumultuous events.

Sara wrapped herself in the sheets, curling into herself, silent tears marking her face.

Adrian's eyes, now sharp with clarity, traced the scene before him, piecing together the events of the evening with cold precision. His gaze landed on the glass of milk on the nightstand, the hazy warmth that had overtaken him now replaced with an icy realization.

A drugged glass of milk. The silky camisole. The way she had fallen toward him, helpless and alluring...

Each thought ignited an anger colder than fire, and his voice, laced with accusation, was barely above a whisper as he spoke.

"I didn't think you'd stoop so low."

Sara's wide, tear-filled eyes met his, the hurt and disbelief clear in her gaze. She hadn't had time to piece it all together herself, but she realized with a jolt that something - someone - had drugged them both. Yet the accusation in his words stung, cutting deep.

But he turned away, ignoring the traces of tearstains and the vulnerable way she lay, covered in bruises from the night's roughness.

"I'll have money sent to your account each month," he said, his voice devoid of emotion.

Then he dressed his back to her, his movements mechanical. He didn't look at her as he finished buttoning his shirt, nor as he walked out the door without a backward glance.

The roar of an engine broke the silence as his car sped away into the night, leaving the villa cloaked in stillness.

Alone in the bed, Sara lay curled under the sheets, her tears falling freely as reality set in. She hugged herself tightly, shaking as the remnants of the night settled like ash in her chest.

What had been a fragile hope, a tentative connection, now lay shattered around her.