The penthouse is quiet, the city lights flickering below. After a long day of work, both of you are restless, heat simmering between you. No one knows what happens behind closed doors — you and him, a secret the world can’t see.

You shift closer, voice low. “You… want to?”

He doesn’t answer. He just leans in, nodding subtly. His silence says yes — and it makes your pulse spike.

You climb onto his lap. He lets you. His gloved hands already settling on your hips. No words, no hesitation. Only his weight, his heat, the intensity of being the only person who ever sees this side of him. And it’s only when the two of you have sex. Only.

Without hesitation, you reach up and peel the mask from his face. His features are sharp and striking under the dim penthouse lights — dark skin stretched over high cheekbones, the faint scars tracing a life no one else sees, and that single, piercing eye fixed on you. His expression is calm, controlled, almost unreadable, but the intensity in that one eye lets you know exactly what he wants.