The orange light began to project the artificial sun from Matty’s phone onto the wall, and the sound of chirping birds filled the room. Matty slowly pried open his eyes and stared up at the ceiling. The streaks of blue began to appear as the fake sun rose above him, and he heard his coffee maker start up at the far side of the room, just out of view behind a screen and a slightly neglected house plant.

Matty was in a position he’d grown accustomed to over the years, but looking at Christina, this time it was different. The satisfaction he was used to. A new conquest, a great fuck, and a good night's sleep was always a beautiful way to start a day. But seeing her in his bed was a million times better, because of the initial reluctance on her part. And because of some deep feeling he couldn’t put his finger on.

Normally that satisfaction felt complete, like after finishing a painting, or getting a new car. That joy of completing a task, and the slight disappointment that the journey had come to an end. It was supposed to be a final feeling, the full stop at the bottom of the last page of the experience. But it wasn't.

Rather, he felt the same way one did after a big meal. He enjoyed last night very much, but his appetite for her quickly returned. Just because he'd had a lovely dinner didn’t mean he didn't want breakfast as well. He wondered if he’d ever have enough of this woman. The way she’d submitted to him, completely trusted him—it was like a narcotic in his veins.

The way she looked in his bed after they’d finished, when he’d returned to take care of her—he felt as though it could be more than just pure lust, and primal want. More than just a casual fling, or a conquest. Her face was almost angelic, and she’d fully given in to her desires. He’d found himself wanting to take care of her. Make sure she was okay. He’d had—actual feelings.

These thoughts didn’t sit well with Matty after the initial elation of waking up with her next to him. Matty’s life was tightly compartmentalized for a reason, and that included his love life, or lack thereof. Relationships were work, and Matty Spencer enjoyed the least amount of work possible. What was more, he was certain the moment she woke, she’d return to her cold, rigid personality. Probably worse, considering the regret she was sure to project onto him. It’d probably ruin his breakfast.

After a moment of contemplation, though, he was ready for more Christina. Their night together hadn’t scratched the itch. It’d had stoked the flames even higher.

Usually, he’d already begun plans for the next girl by now. Or at least he no longer felt that intense craving. Even the women who wound up becoming his girlfriends for a while, didn't mean all that much after that first night. They were arm candy, or decent conversation, or the perfect plus-one for some event or another he’d been invited to. But as soon as he’d enjoyed them once, he knew he would be buried in another woman eventually.

Not so with Christina. Looking at her, he couldn't imagine himself fucking another woman the rest of his life. He didn't feel complete. He felt hollow. Even though she was lying asleep right next to him, he felt empty at the thought that she was not his, and he doubted she ever could be. Managing a woman like Christina would be impossible. She was an enigma, a unicorn. She marched to the beat of her own drum, and nobody could tame her. The thought of doing so would be absurd.

It was ridiculous. He’d taken her. He’d broken her. He’d owned her as much as any man could own a woman, surely more than any man had ever owned her. His hands tightened into fists at the thought of another man even trying. He’d marked her with his teeth and his fingers. That first moment he spanked her—he would never forget that. The thought of her begging him for more—Matty’s cock hardened as the memory played through his mind. He’d watched her rough exterior crumble under his touch, and just for him. So why wasn't he completely satisfied?

He moved closer to her, and reached out under the covers, then wrapped his strong arm around her waist. He pulled her up against his body. She was so petite. Much smaller than she’d seemed when he first saw her. And so much softer. And so much warmer. Fuck. She was so feline, like a cat, lying there fully sated from the night before.

He wasn't even sure what he wanted from her, but as he watched her sleeping, all sorts of fantasies played out in his mind. Fantasies from marrying her, all the way up to tying her to a chair as she begged him to fuck her mouth—something he fully intended to do. But at the same time, he had thoughts of the sweetest, most meaningless romantic gestures he’d never even remotely considered before. Buying her flowers, strolling through a park holding hands. It was ludicrous, almost disgusting to him. But, he wanted to do it all with her. To give it all to her. To take it all from her. He shuddered at the thought that he wanted her as a companion. A lover. A friend.

He pressed his lips to her forehead tenderly, inhaling the sweet cherry scent in her hair, noting that it was infused with a faint note of his cologne.

She stirred, and then her eyes slowly opened to meet the day. Her long eyelashes fluttered against her soft skin. She was lovely. She looked at him so sweetly, so warmly—it was hard to believe she was the same person he’d hired two days ago. She smiled at him.

“Morning.” She stretched her feline arms above her head and yawned.

He ran a hand through her hair, tucking a few stray locks behind her ear. “Good morning. Did you sleep all right?”

She nodded softly.

“I know it isn't always fun sleeping in a strange bed.” He kissed her forehead again.

“The bed is perfect.” Her eyes darted around the room and then widened. “Are those fake birds? And a fake sunrise?” She raised an eyebrow.

“That’s Mia.”

“The house computer?” Christina rolled over and looked at the projected sun on the ceiling.

He nodded and pulled her closer to him so that her head was nuzzled in the crook of his neck. With his index finger, he traced the soft curves of her gorgeous, naked body as if he were painting her on a canvas. The curve of her shoulder, along the swell of her breast, and down the side of her hip.

She rested her head on his chest. “Is she the one making coffee too, or is that one of the human servants?”

“That's the house,” he said. “She does everything.”

“How long ‘til she replaces all the staff?”

“There’s only one staff you should be concerned with at the moment.” He was sure to press his still-hard cock up against her ass.

Christina rolled her eyes, but Matty noticed something he wasn’t sure he’d just witnessed. A laugh. He’d made the ice queen laugh. He was off to a good start for the day. A better day already than he’d had in a very long time—since he could remember, in fact. Something about that struck him too. He knew he’d completely satisfied her in bed the previous night, but the knowledge he’d made her laugh—the feeling was nearly as intense as conquering her in the bedroom.

“I’m serious. Will she eventually replace your employees?”

He sighed. “Well, she can't even do her own job. That's why you're here. So I guess it will be at least another decade or two.”

It was nice to be able to wake up and talk to someone. Usually, there was nobody he wanted to talk to. He’d much rather wake up on his own with a cup of coffee. Even when he was with any of his past girlfriends he would ask them to shut up as he put on the radio and went to get breakfast. If Christina was any other woman, he’d have already left the room after instructing her to get dressed and go away. Not so much in those words, but he was a master of giving hints.

But no. He wanted her to stay there, under his arm, with her head on his chest, asking questions about the future of his work—if that was what she wished to discuss. He wanted to remain like this all day if possible—cancel all his meetings, and just sit and watch Christina, and listen to everything she had to say.

In his thirty-one years of life, he’d never experienced anything quite like this. What was happening to him? He barely even knew this woman.

He could lose his company, his money, his art, even his cars, and as long as he was able to wake up like this every morning, it would be worth it.

If he was younger, he would’ve called this ridiculous notion love. But in his lifetime, he’d learned that love was nothing more than simple infatuation. It always passed. It would pass with her too, which was why he wouldn’t mold any long-term decisions around the way he currently felt. He would not give up his company, his money, his art, or his cars just to wake up next to her every morning. Because she was sure to tire of him, or he of her, once all these new chemicals ceased to race through their bodies.

He’d learned the hard way about love.

And sure enough, the more Christina became aware of her surroundings, the less comfortable she seemed. Her face was slowly turning back to ice. She was most certainly replaying last night in her mind and applying those decisions to the future. Analyzing her entire life, the way she did with his stack of bills.

“I suppose you'll want to have a shower and get ready for work? Mr. Johannes can source you a dress. And at least you haven't got far to travel.”

She obviously faked the smile that now appeared on her face. “A shower sounds great, actually.”

He showed her to the en-suite, turned the shower on for her, and went to get his coffee. Sipping it and looking out the window at the London skyline, he wondered how he should play his current predicament. He sort of missed the cold Christina with the bad attitude, but he had no doubt he’d encounter her once more shortly. People didn’t change who they were, especially strong-willed females like her. But he didn’t mind this. It was no fun trying to break someone who posed no resistance. Perhaps this could be their little dance they did every day. She could be her usual self during the day, and at night, he’d just fuck it right out of her. He didn't want one version or the other—he wanted them both.

“Mia, call Mr. Johannes.”

Mia lit up and dialed the number.

He sipped his coffee and, as the call connected, went to the wardrobe looking for a towel for Christina.

Mr. Johannes' face interrupted and ruined the beautiful projection of clouds on the wall. “Yes, Mr. Spencer?”

“I need a woman's suit dress in a size—” He paused and picked Christina's up from the floor. “It needs to be in a size eight-ish, I think. It doesn't have a label.”

“I would assume that, with her figure, she would get them tailored.”

“Yes.” He dropped the dress to the floor. “Just find me one in every size from six to twelve and bring them in. And have a tailor on standby who can be ready to alter one at a moment’s notice if she requires it.”

“Of course, Mr. Spencer.”

The phone call ended.

Matty glared at the projection of clouds as it resumed. Why was Mia so useless? All he wanted to do was continue his father's legacy as being at the forefront of new developments. And he’d seized something which was going to revolutionize modern life. He’d hired all the best minds in IT he could get. So why was Mia such a sack of shit? At the same time, he couldn’t help but notice the irony. Were it not for Mia fucking up his life, Christina would’ve never come into it.

“You’re not off the hook.” He glared at the projection once more, as if he were talking to an actual person.

Hearing the shower stop, he wandered over to the bathroom, opened the door, and walked in. “Thought you may need this.” He held out the towel.

“Thank you.”

He handed it to her and she hastily covered herself up as though he hadn't seen and tasted every inch of her skin already.

“Need some help getting ready?” His eyebrows rose.

“I’m fine.”

His jaw tightened at her declining the offer to assist her in getting dressed, which they both knew would actually mean undressing her. It’d half been a joke, but now he found himself wanting to strip her naked so that he could do whatever he pleased. Matty Spencer rarely asked questions. He gave orders. And despite the sudden walls she was putting up, he noticed the goosebumps pebbling over her naked flesh. Her perfectly shaved pussy flashed in his mind, wet with need. His cock rose, and he bit back a groan. He knew the goosebumps on her neck weren’t from the cold air, but from his voice and presence. He rather enjoyed affecting her so much.

He didn’t like the tone of her voice, like she was appeasing him, but wanted him away from her as soon as possible. Matty was a lot of things, but he knew he wasn’t a repellant for women, and definitely not for Christina. She’d begged for his cock the night before for fuck’s sake.

“Do you mind? I should get back to work. I have to finish the office today.” She seemed desperate to get out of his room.

“Mr. Johannes is bringing a selection of suit dresses for you. You can do your hair and makeup here as well.”

She nodded. “Thanks.”

He watched her move to the bed and sit down, digging through her bag for that little parcel of emergency makeup every woman seemed to carry. She began marking the lines with a slightly nervous, shaky hand.

Mr Johannes arrived soon after with the dresses and she found one that more or less fit her.

“Does it need tailored?”

Christina gave him a look. “No. We don’t have time for that, even if it did.”

Matty took a sip of his coffee. “We have one nearby ready to make any alterations you need, if it comes to that.”

“You what?” Christina seemed perplexed.

“I had one called. In case you needed his services.”

Christina’s mouth curled upward slightly, and then quickly pressed back into a thin line. “That’s okay, this will work.” She stared at him for a quick moment. “Thanks, though.” She turned away sharply, seemingly looking for a way out of the room.

She was so quiet all of a sudden, almost withdrawn. Once dressed, she took off for the door. Matty watched her walk away, heels clacking on the floor. The sight of her ass and hips swaying back and forth sent his cock warring with his zipper once more. Mr. Johannes followed her and Matty let out a groan and adjusted himself.

He made his way to the office, where he saw her sorting papers again, only this time with a little less deliberation than yesterday.

“You all right? You seem a little off.”

She rolled her eyes, though she did it where she thought he wouldn’t notice. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

“I’m not surprised, considering everything. But it seems to be something more than that. You’re not at all yourself.”

She scoffed. “You barely know me. I’m very much myself.”

He paused and stared at her. He had his doubts.

She sighed. “It’s nothing. I just need to focus on my work.”

She wouldn't fool him. Something was wrong. What on earth had come over her? She hadn’t insulted him once this morning. It was as though having sex had ripped out some essential part of her being. Or perhaps she was just not able to wear that mask in front of him anymore. The harshness, the coldness, the detachment, had all been stripped away and she saw no reason to keep up the impression any longer? But why?

He’d known women who adorned different masks for every situation. Not as extreme as Christina's, but different nonetheless. But generally, they kept the two very much separated, and consistent. Christina did not seem capable of that.

She hadn't been a virgin, had she? She felt too experienced, and she’d have been in much more pain. And yet he felt he’d done something to her which nobody had done before, something which had fundamentally changed her. Perhaps nobody had broken her before. Nobody had managed to show her what she needed, and tamed her in the bedroom. If that was the case, then perhaps he had taken a virginity of sorts.

He ought to be happy with himself. But he couldn't help but feel bad. He’d unwittingly ruined one of the very things which had attracted him to her. The answer came to him. She’d fallen in love with him, and she didn’t know how to deal with those feelings. That had to be it. Of course it was. He smiled to himself and walked from the room.