His Carnal Desire R-18

Chapter 1

DYLAN

"God! I'm tired!" I blurted out, my body yearning for the comfort of the couch. The bags I had been lugging around finally hit the floor with a thud, as if they, too, needed a rest.

Dad had just emerged from his home office with a cup of coffee in hand. He glanced at the array of shopping bags sprawled across the living room, his eyebrows arched in amusement. "You practically cleaned out the entire department store," he observed, his tone a blend of amusement and disbelief.

I couldn't help but pout a little in response. "Come on, Dad, you can't blame me. It's not like I have anything to wear," I protested, my lips forming a sulky expression.

Dad shook his head, a touch of annoyance in his voice. "What do you mean you have nothing to wear? You've got a closet full of designer clothes."

I sighed, my gaze dropping to the floor as I explained, "But Dad, those are all off-season. I can't wear them right now."

Dad's patience was wearing thin as he continued to press the issue. "Dylan, you're not a kid anymore. You have to think about your future. I allowed you to go to art school instead of business school because you insisted that's where your passion lay. But it seems like all you're doing lately is shopping," he scolded, his words laced with concern.

It was a conversation that had become all too familiar since I graduated from college. Dad had high hopes for me, hoping that my artistic talents would lead to a fulfilling career. But the truth was, I had hit a creative roadblock. The passion that had once fueled my art seemed to have disappeared, leaving me feeling lost and unsure.

I had tried, really tried, to rekindle that spark. I traveled far and wide, hoping to find inspiration in the world around me. Yet, no matter where I went, that elusive muse remained out of reach. It was as if I had lost my connection to the very thing that had once driven me.

So, instead of creating art, I found myself seeking solace in shopping and globe-trotting. The latest fashion trends and luxury boutiques became my canvas, and exotic destinations my temporary escape from the void within. My life had become a whirlwind of shopping sprees and first-class flights, all in search of something I couldn't quite put my finger on.

Dad's voice, filled with concern and frustration, pulled me from my thoughts. "Dylan, you need to figure out your path. What truly makes you happy? What are you going to do with your talents?"

His questions lingered in the room, hanging like unanswered riddles. As I glanced at the shopping bags scattered about, I couldn't help but wonder if the answers were hidden among them or if they were buried deeper within me, waiting to be unearthed.

"I promise, Dad, I'll figure it out," I assured him, hoping to alleviate some of his concerns.

Dad set down his coffee cup and fixed me with a determined gaze. "Here's the deal, Dylan. I'll give you one month to make a real effort and find your path in life. If you don't, I'll take matters into my own hands and decide which course of action you should take. Do we have a deal?"

He had been issuing this ultimatum for as long as I could remember, and I was fairly certain he didn't mean it. But his tone carried an unusual seriousness today.

"Sure, Dad, whatever," I replied, waving a hand dismissively.

"I need to hear a clear confirmation from you, Dylan," he insisted, his persistence unyielding.

"Fine, fine, Dad! I agree," I grumbled in frustration, the weight of his expectations bearing down on me.

He nodded, a mysterious smile playing on his lips. It was an unusual reaction, and I couldn't help but furrow my brows. Was he planning something behind this ultimatum? The thought gnawed at me as I wondered what might be in store for me in the coming month.

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A month had drifted by like a cloud, and to be honest, not much had changed in my life. I continued my ritual of exploring boutiques and jet-setting to destinations near and far. Just recently, I returned from a vacation in the Philippines, a place with beaches so exquisite they seemed unreal. It hadn't even been twenty-four hours since I left, but my mind was already plotting my next visit to those stunning shores.

"Good morning, Miss Gordon." Phillip, our trusted family chauffeur, greeted me as he held the car door open.

"Good morning, Phillip. It's good to see you again," I responded with a friendly smile.

"Welcome back, Miss Gordon," he replied, closing the car door behind me. With practiced ease, he loaded my luggage into the trunk before taking his place in the driver's seat.

"Ugh! I can't wait to get home," I exclaimed, my impatience getting the better of me as we pulled away from the airport.

I leaned my head against the comfortable backrest of the car seat, closing my eyes to steal a moment of rest. We had been on the road for nearly half an hour when I decided to crack my eyes open, curious to see if we were nearing home. My confusion grew as I realized we were on an unfamiliar route.

"Phillip, where are we headed?" I asked, and my curiosity piqued.

"Mr. Gordon wishes to see you, ma'am," was his cryptic reply.

I let out an exasperated sigh, feeling the weight of fatigue settle in. "Can't it wait? I'm really exhausted right now," I protested, slumping back against the seat. The unexpected detour had thrown a curveball into my plans, and I couldn't help but wonder what had prompted my father's sudden desire to meet.

After a few more minutes, the car stopped in front of a familiar place. I was practically dragging my feet to go to my father's favorite restaurant, where he would like us to meet. I don't know what urgent matter this is all about; he can't wait for us to talk about this at home.

Upon my arrival, a woman was waiting for me at the door, ready to guide me to the private room my father had reserved at his favorite restaurant.

"This way, ma'am," she said, leading me towards the room. As she opened the door, I was taken aback to find not only my father inside but also someone incredibly familiar.

My breath caught in my throat as my gaze met his striking gray eyes. It had been so long since I'd seen him, and my heart stirred with emotions that I thought I had buried. I had been just fifteen years old when I first encountered him during one of my father's board meetings. Now, at twenty-five, my heart still races, just like it did the very first time I laid eyes on him.

My father's voice broke through my sudden trip down memory lane. I forced myself to divert my attention from him and acknowledged my father with a warm greeting.

"Hi, dad," I said, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"I'm glad you're back, princess," he replied before pulling out a chair for me. Then he brought up a name from the past. "Do you still remember Cassius?"

How could I forget? I had been secretly infatuated with him since our first encounter. Back then, he was only twenty-eight but already renowned as the most eligible billionaire bachelor and the owner of the most innovative shipping line in the country.

I reminisced about the times I'd sneak into my father's office just to catch a glimpse of Cassius during his meetings. I'd secretly wished he'd spend more time at our house whenever he visited, just so I could see him a little longer.

But throughout all those moments, he had never paid me much attention. To him, I was just the daughter of his business partner. As the years passed, I lost hope that he would ever see me as a woman instead of a child.

"I have no idea, dad," I replied, avoiding his gaze. However, I couldn't escape the feeling that Cassius saw through my lies.

"Well, perhaps it's because you were quite young back then. But regardless, let me introduce you properly. This is Cassius, a dear friend of mine," my father said, gesturing towards the man beside him. "Cass, this is my daughter, Dylan."

"It's a pleasure to meet you again, Dylan," Cassius said with his deep, baritone voice as he extended his hand towards me.

My heart raced at the thought of our hands touching. To hide my emotions, I adopted a somewhat aloof demeanor, even though inside, my feelings for him stirred once more.

"What do you want to tell me that you wanted me to go straight here from the airport?" I directed my question at my father, my focus firmly on him, as if Cassius's extended hand didn't exist. "I doubt my presence would be of much help in your business meetings. Why don't we discuss whatever this is back at home?" Without waiting for his response, I pivoted toward the exit. The proximity to the man who had once been the object of my affection was unnerving.

"On the contrary, princess, you are the very reason we've gathered here," my father replied, his words laden with meaning.

I halted in my tracks and turned to face him, my curiosity piqued. "What do you mean, dad?"

"Remember our agreement, princess? Your time has come," he stated confidently.

I couldn't contain my frustration any longer. I stormed back to the table and slammed my hand down. "What are you planning, dad?"

"Exactly what we discussed a month ago, my dear. You'll allow me to make the decision for you this time. And I've decided that you should marry this fine gentleman here," he declared, gesturing toward Cassius.

Cassius's expression mirrored my confusion. It was clear that he had no prior knowledge of my father's intentions. "What's all this about, Gordon?" he asked, seeking clarification.

"I apologize for not having the chance to discuss this with you beforehand, Cassius. But I was hoping you would consider my request that you marry my daughter," my father explained, casting an expectant gaze toward Cassius.

"You've put me in an incredibly awkward position, Dad. Couldn't you have arranged for me to marry someone who was at least aware of this plan? It feels more like a shotgun wedding than an arranged one," I commented, my embarrassment deepening with each word, painfully aware that Cassius had to witness this exchange.

"I've known Cassius for quite some time, and I'm confident he'll make a suitable husband for you. There's no reason this marriage shouldn't proceed. It's a logical step for our businesses," my father reasoned.

"I'm not a business transaction, Dad," I retorted.

"But we have an agreement, sweetheart. We must honor it," he insisted.

It had always been an unspoken rule between us: promises made were promises kept, no matter the circumstances.

With a defeated sigh, I finally relented, "Fine, whatever. It's just a wedding."

Silence enveloped us for a moment as we both turned our attention to Cassius, who was calmly sipping from his glass of wine. Anticipation gnawed at me as I watched him carefully place his glass on the table, then pick up a napkin to wipe his mouth.

"Wayne, I consider you one of my dearest friends, and I'm honored that you've seen fit to choose me as your daughter's husband. I'm sure Dylan will make a wonderful wife."

He hadn't even finished speaking, but I could already sense a "but" looming on the horizon.

"But I don't believe I'm the right match for her. My tastes in women are quite specific." He then turned his gaze toward me, his eyes meeting mine. "No offense intended, Dylan, but you're not the woman I'm seeking."

While I wasn't entirely surprised-I had long known of his lack of interest in me-hearing it so openly stung.

I maintained a composed expression, determined to preserve some semblance of dignity. "Well, Dad, it seems your plan hasn't panned out. Can I return to my life now?"

"Not so fast, princess. I wouldn't be where I am today if I weren't skilled at negotiation," he replied. "Cass, please take some time to think it over before making a final decision."

Cassius didn't immediately respond. Instead, he rose from his seat and approached us. "Thank you for the pleasant meal, Wayne," he said, extending his hand toward my father.

"I'm still hopeful you'll consider my proposal," my father responded before shaking Cassius's hand.

As Cassius reached out his hand, uncertainty clouded my thoughts. What did he want from me at that moment? Despite my reservations, my hand moved as if guided by an unspoken understanding, resting gently on top of his. Our fingers intertwined, creating a connection that felt strangely familiar.

My heart skipped a beat as Cassius, with deliberate tenderness, brought our hands closer to his lips. He planted a soft, lingering kiss on my hand, and our eyes locked in a silent exchange that seemed to transcend the noisy restaurant around us. It was as if we had entered a private world where past and present coexisted.

His warm breath against my skin sent a shiver down my spine, and my heart raced with a mix of excitement and confusion. In that brief moment, I saw a glimpse of the Cassius I had admired during my youth, his eyes filled with emotions I had always wanted to explore.

For a fleeting instant, it felt like the years between us had vanished, leaving only the undeniable connection that had drawn me to him long ago. It was a connection I had hidden beneath layers of indifference, attempting to forget, but in that single kiss, it surged back to life, undeniable and insistent.

As our hands parted and Cassius withdrew, the enchantment that had enveloped us began to fade. The sounds of the restaurant, the clinking of glasses, and the murmur of conversations returned to the forefront of my awareness. The moment had passed, but its impact lingered.

"It's a pleasure to see you again, Dylan," he murmured, almost in a whisper.

Cassius walked away, and I couldn't move; my eyes locked on his fading figure. Emotions swirled inside me, leaving me confused.

My father's unusual plan had led to this unexpected reunion with Cassius, the man I'd longed for since my teenage years. My feelings were a jumble. Part of me was relieved that he rejected the marriage idea, sparing me a path I didn't choose. Yet, a deeper part held onto old desires and felt a sting of disappointment.

Watching him vanish, I pondered what lay ahead. Cassius didn't want a future with me, and I reluctantly agreed to my father's plan. It brought relief mixed with regret, a compromise between my desires and expectations.

With a sigh, I turned to my father, who'd observed it all. He had a clear goal, but it seemed things didn't go as planned. Still, his determination remained.

"Let's go home, Dad," I said, tired.

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