A Night of Passion with a Billionaire Counsel

In the dimly lit suite, a man held Charlotte's slender waist, pressing her against the cold wall. He kissed her passionately, his hand grasped her breast, teasing her sensitive nipple through the fabric.

Charlotte Russell moaned softly, her legs instinctively twisting as she felt herself getting wetter.

The man's fingers traced down her long legs, his fingertips dancing like a pianist's, relentlessly teasing her. Soon, a shiver ran through her body, and a wave of arousal dampened his fingers.

"Getting excited, huh?" he chuckled, pulling his hand back. He slipped his fingers, now wet with her arousal, under her clothes, deliberately smearing it on her nipple before sucking on it, his tongue playfully nibbling.

Charlotte's body went limp, and she clung to him tighter, overwhelmed by the intense pleasure he was giving her.

He removed her soaked panties, lifted her legs, and pressed forward, his hardness meeting her warmth.

Leaning on his shoulder, Charlotte whispered, "Ethan Cooper!"

Everything stopped abruptly, leaving only the sound of heavy breathing.

With a soft click, the lights flicked on.

The sudden brightness made Charlotte open her dazed eyes to see the man's face.

Frederick Hawkins was a renowned lawyer known for his strictness and fairness. He was also wealthy and influential. Most importantly, he was her ex-boyfriend Ethan's brother-in-law.

Ethan, the jerk who had a four-year relationship with her, only to break up after climbing his way into the arms of a wealthy heiress. Tonight, they announced their engagement, which drove Charlotte to drink herself into a stupor at the bar. Under the influence of alcohol and the man's charm, she ended up following him here.

Charlotte sobered up instantly, surprised by the coincidence of encountering her ex's brother-in-law during a moment of indulgence.

Frederick leaned against the wall, lighting a cigarette. After a moment of silence, he smirked, "Interesting, Miss Russell."

He flicked the ash off his cigarette, his expression casual yet mocking. "What, sleep with me to get back at Ethan?"

Clearly, Frederick recognized her too.

Charlotte couldn't pretend to be drunk and unrecognizable anymore. She couldn't afford to offend a big shot like Frederick, so she lowered her head in shame and apologized, "I'm sorry, Mr. Hawkins. I was drunk."

Frederick chuckled, not making things difficult for her. He glanced at the torn clothes on the floor, then stood up and tossed her a coat. "Put this on. I'll take you home."

Charlotte sighed in relief and thanked him softly.

Frederick drove a Bentley Continental, and neither of them spoke during the ride.

Charlotte stole a glance at him.

Frederick's profile was flawless, with sharp, defined features that highlighted his striking handsomeness. Though his shirt bore no brand, it radiated an understated luxury.

When they arrived, Frederick turned to her, his gaze lingering on her long, fair legs for a moment. Then, he took a business card from the glove compartment and handed it to Charlotte, a slight smile playing on his lips.

Frederick's intention was clear, and Charlotte understood immediately.

She stared back at him, surprised that he wanted to sleep with her again.

Despite Frederick's skill in quickly arousing her desire, the thought of his identity made Charlotte hesitate and refuse, "Mr. Hawkins, we shouldn't stay in touch."

Frederick looked at Charlotte. She was beautiful, but he wouldn't force her.

He took back the card, smiling. "You're right. We really shouldn't stay in touch."