Morning light filters through the curtains, waking me from my deep sleep. For a moment, I'm disoriented, the unfamiliar room around me strange and alien.

I stretch, my body sore and aching in the most delicious way. Memories of the night before flood my mind. Ares. The passion. The pleasure. The pain.

I blush, remembering his words, his demands. The way he used my body, taking his pleasure. The way he made me come, over and over again.

I've never been with someone like that. Of course I've heard of people doing the whole sub/dom thing, but i never understood it. Not until last night, at least.

I would consider myself an independent woman, but something about Ares commanding me in the bedroom sparked something inside of me that I didn't know was there.

Ares.

I roll onto my side, reaching for him, eager to repeat the night's activities.

But he's not there.

I'm alone, the sheets cold.

I sit up, scanning the room. There's no sign of him. No trace of his presence.

"Ares?" My voice is small and uncertain.

There's no answer.

I climb out of bed, wrapping the sheet around myself. My clothes are still strewn across the floor.

I walk to the bathroom, the tiles cool beneath my feet. The shower is empty, the glass door fogged. He must have taken a shower not too long ago.

I lean over the sink, the cool porcelain calming me. My reflection is distorted, blurred. My brown hair is a mess, tangled and wild. I look like a woman who has been thoroughly fucked. And I have.

I need to get dressed and get back to my room. I need to brush my teeth. To take a shower. My mother's rehearsal dinner is today, and I have a lot to do.

I walk to the bedroom, collecting my clothes. My dress is wrinkled and creased and I can't find my panties anywhere. Those were one of my favorite pairs, too. The kind of pantie that fits just right.

As I dress, the events of last night play over in my mind. His hands, his lips, his cock. The way he touched me, the way he commanded me. The way he punished me.

The thought makes me shiver, a spark of arousal igniting. Last night should hold me over for a while.

As I head for the door, I notice a piece of paper on the bedside table. It's a note, his handwriting neat and precise.

'Emma. Last night was amazing. You're amazing. I'm sorry I had to leave so early. Duty calls. Please know that I had an unforgettable time with you.'

It's short, but it's enough.

I fold the note, tucking it into my purse. I know this is supposed to be a one night stand, but I wouldn't mind having more nights with this man using my body for his pleasure. My insides flutter from the thought alone.

I open the door, stepping into the hallway. It closes behind me with a soft click, the sound final.

The walk back to my room is quiet, the hallways empty. Im carrying my shoes and I think about putting them on. I definitely look like I'm doing the walk of shame. Wrinkled dress, messy hair, last night's makeup, carrying my shoes, and no panties.

If my mother could see me now. I don't know whether I would receive a lecture or be priased by her. She would probably commend me for even hooking a man.

My mother is probably already awake, preparing for her rehearsal dinner. It's still hours away, but she refuses to look anything but perfect. I doubt Archer has even seen her without her makeup.

My body aches with each step, the memory of Ares hands, his lips, his cock. He may have ruined me for other men. I have never been fucked that well or that thoroughly.

I slip into my room, the familiar surroundings a comfort. I grab some clean clothes and head to the bathroom. I need a hot shower and a few moments to clear my head.

The water is scalding, but the heat soothing.

I can't believe last night really happened. It feels like a dream, the events surreal and hazy.

As the water cascades over me, my thoughts once again drift back to last night. The way he touched me, the way he kissed me. The way he fucked me.

I can't help but reach down, my fingers sliding between my legs. Im still tender, a little sore, but my core is aching. The memory from last night is fresh, the sensations vivid. I can still taste him on my lips, smell his scent on my skin.

I press my fingers inside myself, the sensation making me moan. It isn't as good as his touch, but it will do. My body responds, the tension building. I'm already so close, the pressure almost too much.

"Fuck," I gasp, the word echoing off the tiled walls.

My orgasm hits almost instantly, the pleasure overwhelming. I slump against the wall, the water washing away the evidence.

I take a moment to catch my breath, my body humming. I feel so relaxed.

As I dress, I can't help but wonder if I'll ever see him again. If I'll ever have the chance to be used by him again. He didn't tell me anything personal about himself, outside of his name. But he's clearly not from around here. I remember his suitcase. I should have asked more questions, but my mind was singularly focused last night.

I step out of the shower and walk to the mirror, wiping off the condensation and fog from its surface. I look at my reflection, at the marks on my neck, the bruises on my hips. He definitely left a hickey. I run my fingers along the love bites, the memories flooding back.

I can't help but grin, my cheeks heating.

Last night was amazing, the best sex I've ever had. But I can't think about that now. I have a wedding to prepare for.

I dry my hair and apply some light makeup. I have to cover the marks on my neck somehow. I slip into a simple purple dress, the fabric soft and loose.

I have a lot to do before the rehearsal dinner, thanks to my maid of honor duties. My mother really did leave everything in my hands. But it's fine. I can handle it. I hired a wedding planner who's taken on half of my tasks.

As I exit the room, the scent of coffee wafts through the air. My stomach rumbles, the reminder of not eating much last night suddenly catching up to me. I make a quick detour to the breakfast bar, snagging a cup of coffee and a blueberry muffin.

I sip the coffee, the caffeine waking me up. It's hot and strong, the flavor rich and earthy. The muffin is delicious, the berries fresh and tart. I need all the energy I can get for the day ahead.

As I walk to the event hall, the sun warms my skin. The weather is perfect, the air light and fresh.

The event room is already set up, the staff working quickly and efficiently. The tablecloths are white and purple, and the room is coming together beautifully.

Selene, the wedding planner greets me, her smile wide and genuine.

"Emma, you look lovely," she says.

"Thanks," I say, taking a sip of coffee.

"We're almost done setting up. The flowers are being delivered this afternoon, and the sample cake will be here before the rehearsal."

"Great," I reply, my mind already racing.

"We're a bit behind schedule, but I know we can make it up," she continues, her voice bright and confident.

"Don't worry, I'm sure everything will go smoothly," I reassure her, though I'm not as certain. This is a big desl to my mom. And althoigh it isn't a big deal to me, I can't let anything mess up. My mother will never let me live it down.

Selene smiles, her eyes sparkling. "You're right. I'm sure everything will be perfect."

"Is there anything else you need me to do?" I ask, finishing the last of the muffin.

She shakes her head. "I have it from here. Everything is under control, but I'll give you a call if I need anything."

"Sounds good," I say, relief washing over me. I have so many other things to check off my list, I'm glad Selene has this handled.

"Have a wonderful morning," she says, giving me a little wave.

I return the gesture and walk to the lobby, my mind spinning. There are still so many things to do, so many people to check in with.

We already had some guests who RSVP'd change their minds last minute, which means I need to fix the seating chart. And Archer's brother, his supposed to be best man, declined his invitation. He said he had a business thing he had to do. Honestly, it just sounds like an excuse to me.

I don't know much about Archer's brother, or his family in general. He and my mom haven't been together all that long. But the least his brother could do is show up for his wedding. Archer seemed really understanding, saying something about his brother being the owner and CEO of a few very large companies and how busy he always is. Still, it's not an excuse for him to bail on his brother's wedding. But whatever. I'm going to have to scramble to figure out what the hell to do with the place cards.

I also need to make sure the catering is on schedule, the music is set up, and the gifts are all in order. And then there's the bridesmaid dresses, the shoes, and the hair and makeup.

As I make my way toward the lobby, the phone rings. I sigh, pulling it out of my pocket.

It's Selene. I wonder what she would be calling about. I literally just seen her.

"Hello?"

Her voice is hesitant, causing my anxiety to spike. "Emma, we have a bit of a situation."

"What is it?" I ask, already bracing myself for bad news.

"The florist is late. Like, really late."

"What?"

"They're about a day behind schedule."

A day? How does this even happen?

"But they were supposed to be here by now," I say, the words coming out more as a statement than a question.

"I know. But it seems they had some sort of emergency and were delayed."

I can't help but groan. "They couldn't have given us more of a notice?"

"It would have been nice. But it's okay. We can make this work. I just wanted to keep you filled in."

"How? The rehearsal starts in a couple of hours. The wedding is tomorrow."

"We'll just have to wing it for tonight," she says, her voice calm and reassuring.

"Okay," I reply, trying to hide the uncertainty in my tone.

"We can fill the tables with some extra candles and other decorative items."

"But that's not the same," I protest. I know my mother is going to be upset and find a way to turn this into my fault, as if I can predict and stop emergencies.

"It will be fine. It will be beautiful. And we will have the flowers in time for the actual wedding and reception."

"Okay. Let's hope you're right."

"Trust me, I am."

We hang up, and I take a deep breath. This isn't ideal, but it's not the end of the world. I can still make this work.

I try to stay focused and do my best to ignore the constant worry nagging at the back of my mind. I run around the hotel, making sure everything is in order before ending up at my mother's room.

"Come in," she calls out.

I enter, the scent of perfume filling the air.

"Oh good, you're here," she says, her gaze scanning me. "What took you so long?"

"Sorry," I reply. "I had to finish up some stuff for the rehearsal dinner."

"Well, don't just stand there. Help me pick out a necklace."

I walk over to the vanity, eyeing the selection of jewelry laid out. I know this is her wedding weekend, but seriously, who brings thousands of dollars worth of jewelry to a hotel?

"What are you wearing again?" I ask.

"The purple gown." She points to her bathroom door where the dress hangs.

I nod, picking up a silver and pearl necklace.

"That one's nice," she says. "But I'm not sure. Maybe something a little less delicate?"

"Okay." Why does she even ask for my help if she turns it down? I pick up a gold chain with a large teardrop pendant.

"Yes, that's better," she agrees.

I slip the necklace around her neck, fastening it.

"Perfect," she says, her reflection smiling.

My mother and I may have a difficult relationship, but I love seeing her this happy. She deserves this. She's been through a lot, and she deserves a little happiness.

"Where's Archer? I thought you two were spending the day together."

"Oh, his brother made it in last minute," she says. "They're getting ready together."

"Wait, his brother showed up?"

"Yes, surprisingly. I didn't think he would, but Archer was so happy to see him. You know how important family is to him."

I'm taken aback by the news. Archer's brother showing up last minute changes everything. The wedding dynamics, the seating arrangements, even my own meticulously planned schedules. I wish I would have known this sooner.

"Did you meet him?" I ask, trying to mask my annoyance at this last minute guest.

"Not yet. He arrived sometime late last night. But Archer says he wants to introduce us before the dinner starts."

"Alright, sounds good," I say, giving my mother a reassuring smile. Why are so many last minute things popping up? Can't this be an uncomplicated weekend? I cant wait for this wedding to be over.

As I leave her room, my phone buzzes with another reminder. This time, it's about the final check with the caterers. At least they're on time and ready.