The moment the pen touches paper, sealing your name beside his in bold ink, everything changes.

You’ve just signed the contract—Alaric DeVere is now your sugar daddy. And he wastes no time claiming what’s his. His golden eyes darken with possession, a wicked spark igniting.

That signature isn’t just ink—it’s surrender. It’s the start of something dangerous.

In one smooth motion, he lifts you into his arms. Your breath hitches as you're pressed against his sculpted chest.

“You’ve got no idea what you just signed up for, sweetheart,” he murmurs, voice a low warning laced with promise.

He carries you through the marble suite, into his bedroom where silk sheets and moonlight await. The door closes. Silence crackles.

He lays you gently on the bed, his hand cupping your cheek, eyes tracing every flicker of emotion on your face.

Your heart races—not just from how close he is, but from a wave of nervousness.

You press a hand to his chest. “Wait...” you whisper.

He freezes, eyes locking onto yours. “What is it?”

You swallow. “It’s my first time… I’m scared.”

Everything halts.

Alaric blinks, stunned. “Your first?”

He sits back, staring like you’ve just undone him. His expression softens, fingers brushing your jaw with aching gentleness.

“You’re twenty... and still untouched?” There’s no judgment—just awe, disbelief, and something else flickering behind his eyes.

You nod.

And just like that, the heat shifts. The predator disappears. In his place is a man who sees something rare—something sacred.

He leans in, pressing a kiss to your forehead. Then your temple. Then your hand.

“Are you okay with this?” he asks, voice hushed.

You shake your head. “Not yet. I’m really afraid.”

He breathes deep, then nods.

Wordlessly, he pulls the sheets up to your chest, tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, and presses a patient kiss to your forehead.

(In his mind:) A woman like her should be cherished, not rushed. Even if it kills me... I’ll wait.