Chapter 1: The Forbidden Question

Chapter 1: The Forbidden Question

The city glittered below, a silent, sprawling galaxy of light viewed from the apex of Liam Blackwood’s world. Here, in his penthouse, the air was still and warm, tasting of their shared breath and the lingering scent of sex. Amy lay tangled in sheets that probably cost more than her semester’s tuition, her head resting on Liam’s chest, the steady, powerful rhythm of his heart a drumbeat against her ear. One of her legs was thrown over his, her skin still hypersensitive from the blistering passion that had consumed them only an hour before.

This was their sanctuary, a place suspended between the sky and the earth where a working-class art student and a tech billionaire could simply be a man and a woman. Amy traced the hard line of his pectoral muscle, a familiar landscape she loved to map. She smiled, a sleepy, contented curve of her lips. She felt safe here, adored.

She shifted, propping herself up on an elbow to look at him. His sharp, intelligent features were softened in the dim glow from the cityscape. His piercing gray eyes, usually so calculating and intense, were dark pools of satisfaction. He brushed a stray strand of her fiery red hair from her cheek, his thumb lingering on her skin.

“Happy?” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through her.

“Mmm,” she confirmed, leaning in to kiss him. “For now.”

It was the wrong thing to say. She knew it the moment the words left her mouth. She saw a flicker, a shutter falling behind his eyes, the briefest tightening of his jaw. The open, sated lover was gone, replaced by the CEO who missed nothing.

“For now?” he repeated, his tone perfectly level.

Amy sighed and rolled away, pulling the sheet up to her chin. The fragile bubble of their intimacy had popped. “I saw that article in Forbes online today,” she said, her voice small. “The one about you.”

Liam was silent for a moment. “They write articles about me every week, Amy. You’ll have to be more specific.”

“The one that called you ‘The City’s Most Acquisitive Bachelor’ and listed your… well, your ‘notable past companions’,” she said, the words tasting like ash. “Models. Actresses. An heiress. All beautiful, all sophisticated. All part of your world.”

He sat up, the sheet pooling around his lean, athletic waist. He didn't look angry, just… watchful. It was the look he got in boardrooms, the one that unnerved his rivals. “That has nothing to do with you and me. That was before.”

“But it’s a pattern, isn’t it?” Her temper, always simmering just beneath the surface, began to boil. Her insecurity was a raw, open wound, and the article had just poured salt in it. “I’m an art student on a scholarship, Liam. I still have a smudge of Prussian blue on my elbow from my finals project.” She gestured, and sure enough, a faint blue mark stained her skin, a forgotten badge of her world. “Do you know how it feels to read about the lineage of women you dated while I’m worried about paying my rent?”

“I’ll pay your rent,” he said simply, as if that solved everything.

“That’s not the point!” she snapped, throwing the sheets back and standing up, feeling exposed and furious. She snatched her worn cotton t-shirt from where it was discarded on a ridiculously expensive Eames chair. “You can’t just buy away the problem! Am I just your next acquisition? The quirky little artist? A new project to keep you entertained until you find the next shiny thing?”

“You know that’s not what you are to me,” he said, his voice dangerously quiet. He stood as well, a towering, formidable figure of muscle and power, naked and unashamed. The expensive Patek Philippe watch on his wrist, the one he never took off, seemed to mock her with its quiet, timeless value. “My past is irrelevant.”

“Is it?” she challenged, her voice rising. “All those women, all those experiences… that’s part of you! A part I know nothing about! There are things you did with them, things you learned with them, a whole world of… of you that’s completely closed off to me!”

Her anger was a wildfire, burning through her inhibitions. Her mind, fueled by a cocktail of rage and hurt, fixated on the one thing that felt like the ultimate symbol of that secret world. A line she had never even considered crossing. The ultimate taboo.

Her shouting stopped. The question came out as a whisper, ragged and raw. “Did you do it with them?”

Liam’s expression didn’t change, but his eyes sharpened, zeroing in on her. “Do what, Amy?”

She couldn’t look at him. She stared at the glittering lights of the city, her heart hammering against her ribs. Her own audacity shocked her. “That,” she breathed. “The back door. Did you… with them?”

The silence that followed was absolute. Amy expected him to be angry, dismissive, maybe even disgusted. She braced herself for the end of the conversation, the end of the night, maybe the end of them.

Instead, when he finally spoke, his voice was a velvet caress that slid down her spine. “No.”

She finally dared to look at him. The CEO was gone again. In his place was something else, something primal and focused. His gray eyes burned with an intensity that had nothing to do with business and everything to do with pure, unadulterated desire.

“I never did,” he continued, taking a slow step toward her. “Because it was never offered. Not like this.”

“I-I’m not offering,” she stammered, taking a step back, her bare feet sinking into the plush rug.

“Aren’t you?” He kept coming, slow, deliberate, a predator stalking his willing prey. “You’re not angry about the past, Amy. You’re curious about the future. Your future. Our future.” He was in front of her now, his heat washing over her. He didn’t touch her, not yet. “You’re asking because a part of you wants to know what it feels like. A part of you wants to give me a part of yourself that you’ve never given to anyone.”

He was right. God, he was infuriatingly, terrifyingly right. Her anger had burned itself out, leaving behind a glowing coal of pure, molten curiosity.

His hands came up to cup her face, his touch surprisingly gentle. “Look at me,” he commanded softly. Her green eyes met his. “This is not a competition. There is no one else. There is only you. And if you want to explore… I will be your guide. But it will be for you. Only for you.”

Her breath hitched. All she could do was nod, a tiny, jerky movement.

A slow, predatory smile touched his lips. He led her back to the bed, laying her on her stomach. The argument, the article, the world outside—it all dissolved. There was only the penthouse, the bed, and Liam’s voice, a low murmur of instruction and praise as his hands began a new, patient exploration. He retrieved a vial of slick, expensive lubricant from his nightstand, the scent of sandalwood and cloves filling the air.

Every touch was deliberate, worshipful. He wasn’t taking; he was mapping. He was learning her. He spoke to her the entire time, telling her how beautiful she was, how responsive, demanding that she breathe with him, that she tell him what she felt.

The tension in her body coiled into a knot so tight she thought she would break. It was a new frontier, a sensation that teetered on the razor’s edge between pleasure and a strange, exquisite pain. She was losing control, surrendering not just her body, but a piece of her soul she hadn’t known was locked away.

“Liam…” she gasped, her fingers clawing at the sheets.

“I’m right here, Amy,” his voice was a firm anchor in the storm he was creating. “Stay with me. Let go.”

And she did.

The orgasm that ripped through her was a cataclysm. It wasn’t the gentle, rolling wave of pleasure she was used to. It was a lightning strike, a complete system overload that arched her back and tore a scream from her throat. It was possessive, absolute, branding her from the inside out.

As the aftershocks slowly subsided, she lay boneless, breathless, her mind completely blank. Liam moved to lie beside her, pulling her into the curve of his body, holding her tight. He said nothing, simply stroking her hair.

The rules had been rewritten. The argument was a distant memory, annihilated by an act of such profound intimacy that it had changed the very foundation of their relationship. A door had been kicked wide open, and Amy, trembling in Liam’s arms, was both thrilled and utterly terrified of what lay on the other side.