“Aren't you a hooker that anyone could on top of you with money?” When they met, he became her guest in room...

"Girl, I need to break up with you." "For what?" "Nothing special, I just don't love you anymore." When Nate broke up with Loretta, he left some hurting words, then left her. Loretta was heartbroken. She wished Nate could back to her, but he didn't. One day, when they met at a friend's wedding, Nate treated her rudely. Loretta felt sad and ran away, not knowing the danger was coming. She was curious to find why Nate broke up with her, so she tracked Nate in a nightclub. Unexpectedly, she was taken away by a stranger and was imprisoned. It seemed all she suffered was because of Nate. As the kidnapper abused her, Nate showed up and protected her with his body. She wouldn't know how much Nate loved her until she knew Nate's secret.

I lowered my gaze, my cheeks flushing, and let my eyes drop to the distinct swell straining against his jeans. “What look?” I decided to play along, my hand drifting to trace the outline as I held his gaze with feigned innocence. He pushed my hand away, only to pull me roughly onto the edge of his desk. My heart stuttered in my chest. “You still haven’t answered my question.” I braced my palms against the solid wall of his chest, waiting for him to do more than just stare down at me with that infuriatingly blank expression. “Well? Can I kiss you?” A nervous laugh escaped me, and I looked away, heat creeping up my neck. The room echoed with Christian’s low, knowing chuckle. His fingers came up to brush my burning cheek. Then he leaned in. Before I could react, his lips—soft, demanding—were on mine. “Remember,” he murmured, his voice a rough whisper against my mouth as he pulled back just enough to speak, his forehead resting against mine, “how I shattered that innocent act of yours at the club?” His eyes held a dark promise. “From now on, I’ll do it anytime I please. Until you learn never to ask me a foolish question like that again.” This time, the kiss wasn’t soft. It was possessive, aggressive. A claim. My arms wound around his shoulders of their own accord, and I met his hunger with my own, my tongue slipping past his lips. I pulled him closer, desperate, wanting to erase any space between us. I wasn’t letting go. After a long, breathless moment, he broke the kiss. Slowly, deliberately, he took my hand from his shoulder. His eyes locked on mine, he guided it down the hard plane of his torso, over his hip… Then finally, he placed my palm firmly back over the hard, undeniable evidence of his desire, his gaze daring me to look away.