The CEO's Wrong Bed

In the hotel room, clothes were scattered all over the floor.

Sophie was kissed by the man in front of her until she could barely breathe. It wasn't until her underwear was torn that she suddenly snapped back to reality.

"No! Let go of me!"

Sophie struggled, squirming in the man's arms. He pressed her down beneath him, his deep eyes hazy with desire. "Let go? You're the one who started this."

Then he grabbed Sophie's soft breast, lowered his head to take it in his mouth, sucking hard while his large hand pulled at her bra strap.

The man was right - Sophie had started it.

Today was Sophie's birthday. Egged on by her friends and drunk, Sophie had ordered a male escort. But the moment she arrived at the hotel entrance, she regretted it.

She'd never hired a male escort before. Her plan was to go into the room, tip him, and leave.

But as soon as she opened the door, someone grabbed her arm and pulled her inside, then a broad figure loomed over her.

Sophie looked up, brow furrowed, teeth biting her lower lip. She tried to push away the man in front of her, but he closed in on her again.

He lifted her easily. When his body pressed hard against hers, a sharp gasp escaped her lips.

The man held Sophie's hips, spreading them apart, letting his cock enter her pussy directly.

"Ah..."

He was far too big—stretching her until she could barely breathe. The sensation made her claw at him, her hips twisting, which only drove him harder.

After countless relentless thrusts, her resistance melted away. Her arms rose, looping around his neck.

Sweat slicked the muscles beneath her fingers. He looked down at her, eyes wild, and sealed her mouth with his.

Time blurred. Even when she was spent, he flipped her over and took her again… and again.

Sophie woke the next morning to sunlight streaming through floor-to-ceiling windows, her body aching in places she'd forgotten existed. The man beside her was still asleep, and the golden light carved out the sharp angles of his face like a sculptor's masterpiece.

God, he was beautiful. Those deep-set eyes, that aristocratic nose, those lips that looked like they'd been drawn with a fine brush—every feature hit Sophie's aesthetic sweet spot with devastating precision.

Well, at least last night hadn't been a total disaster.

But she couldn't afford to lie here admiring the view. Sophie eased herself out of bed, wincing at the protest from muscles she hadn't used in far too long, and scrambled to collect her clothes from where they'd been scattered across the floor in last night's frenzy.

As she headed for the door, Sophie's eyes landed on the nightstand. On impulse—maybe guilt, maybe gratitude—she pulled two hundred-dollar bills from her wallet and tucked them under the lamp.

For his efforts last night. Call it a tip.

She didn't dare look back at the sleeping figure in the bed. Sophie practically fled the hotel room like a thief in the night.

By the time Sophie dragged herself into the office on shaky legs, her supervisor's voice boomed across the floor. "Sophie! Do you have any idea what time it is? Mr. Carter from corporate is coming to inspect our branch today. Don't you dare embarrass me!"

"Got it," Sophie mumbled, massaging her throbbing temples with all the enthusiasm of a zombie.

Sophie worked for one of the world's premier multinational conglomerates, and her company was just one branch in the sprawling Empire City division.

Word was, the visitor today was the corporation's sole heir and newly appointed president: Sebastian Carter.

The office buzzed with nervous energy and barely concealed excitement.

Her female colleagues had pulled out all the stops with their makeup and outfits, each hoping to make an impression on the new boss.

At ten o'clock sharp, everyone gathered in the conference room, waiting.

When the door swung open and a tall, commanding figure strode in, Sophie glanced up—and immediately wanted to die. She dropped her gaze to the papers in front of her, praying for the floor to open up and swallow her whole.

"This is our corporation's newly appointed president, Mr. Carter," the supervisor announced with obvious pride.

Thunderous applause filled the room. Sophie forced herself to clap along, stealing glances at the man on the platform through her peripheral vision.

He wore a perfectly tailored charcoal suit that probably cost more than her monthly rent. Those ice-blue eyes swept the room with surgical precision, and that face—that gorgeous, aristocratic face—radiated the kind of cold elegance that made people instinctively straighten their spines.

Sophie's brain short-circuited.

The new boss was the same man she'd spent last night tangled up with in a hotel bed.

Her first coherent thought: 'I'm screwed.'

Rumor had it Sebastian Carter had zero tolerance for inappropriate relationships between employees, especially those involving power dynamics.

If he recognized her, she wouldn't just lose her job—she'd probably disappear from Empire City altogether, and no one would ask questions.

"Oh my God! The new president is absolutely gorgeous!" Emma Roberts grabbed Sophie's sleeve, practically vibrating with excitement.

"Is he?" Sophie forced a strangled laugh, turning her face away while silently begging every deity she could think of that Sebastian wouldn't notice her.

The meeting dragged on for what felt like an eternity. Sophie felt like she'd run a marathon by the time it finally ended.

Sebastian walked out surrounded by a cluster of senior executives, their voices a low murmur of corporate flattery.

He hadn't looked at Sophie once. Not a single glance.

Sophie exhaled a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. He didn't remember her. Of course he didn't.

Why would someone like him remember a drunk woman who'd thrown herself at him? To someone of his status, Sophie was probably just another face in a long line of women trying to climb into his bed. Not worth the mental energy to recall.

The realization should have been pure relief. And it was—mostly. But somewhere beneath that relief, thinking about last night's intensity, Sophie felt an unexpected flicker of disappointment.

"Mr. Carter, your office is ready. I noticed you don't have a personal assistant to handle your day-to-day affairs yet. Our branch has excellent talent, if you'd like to consider…" The supervisor trailed after Sebastian like an eager puppy.

Sebastian stopped walking. His cool gaze swept across the assembled employees.

"I can do it, sir!" Emma immediately volunteered, her cheeks flushing as she met his eyes.

Emma was pretty, sweet-faced, and had an impressive resume. She was the obvious choice.

Sebastian's gaze settled on her, his expression unreadable.

The supervisor, interpreting his silence as consent, cleared his throat. "Then we'll assign…"

A commotion erupted from the hallway before he could finish.

"Fraud! Give us back our money!"

A mob of agitated people surged down the corridor, brandishing handmade signs and shouting slogans.

Sophie recognized them—former employees from a company the corporation had recently acquired. The severance negotiations had gone south, and apparently they'd decided to take their grievances public.

Several reporters pushed to the front of the crowd, cameras already rolling, lenses trained on Sebastian like weapons.

"Mr. Carter, what's your response to the mass layoffs following your acquisition deal?"

"Sources claim the corporation deliberately exploited workers. Do you deny these allegations?"

The situation spiraled out of control in seconds. The building's security guards stood frozen, completely unprepared.

The executives turned pale, paralyzed with panic.

Emma's face drained of color as she shrank back into the crowd, her earlier enthusiasm evaporating.

Sophie watched Sebastian disappear behind the wall of reporters and protesters. Her mind raced, and suddenly she saw an opportunity—a chance to prove herself valuable enough to keep around.