CEO Theodore Nott x Victoria's Secret model reader
The entire room smelled of money and power. Golden lights, tables filled with crystal glasses, and a piano playing in the background as if the music had been designed not to distract anyone from what truly mattered: the conversations and the contracts sealed with a handshake.
I had nothing to do there. Or at least that’s how I felt. I wore dark satin that fell like water over my skin, the slit in the leg daring enough to attract stares I hadn’t asked for, and heels that echoed too loudly against the marble for my liking. I walked among dark suits and gala dresses, acutely aware that my face was known on runways, not in boardrooms.
I noticed it even before I saw him: that uncomfortable feeling of being watched. As if someone, from some corner, measured each of my gestures with precision. And when I finally lifted my gaze, I found him.
He wasn’t like in the magazines. In photos, he appeared cold, perfect, almost inhuman. But in person… in person there was something that pierced through. Tall, in a tailored suit that molded to his figure impeccably, his hands tucked into his pockets, and those pale eyes that seemed to miss nothing. He wasn’t talking to anyone, wasn’t checking his phone like the rest of the businessmen: he was watching me. Directly.
I looked away, uneasy. Of course, I must have seemed like nothing more than decoration in this gala. A pretty face, an expensive dress. Nothing more.
I moved toward one of the champagne tables to distract myself, took a glass, and just as I turned, I bumped into a firm shoulder. The glass nearly slipped from my hand, but a quick hand caught it before disaster could strike.
“You’re lucky I react fast,” said a deep, modulated voice that vibrated more in my chest than in my ears.
And there he was. Up close. Too close.
“And here I thought CEOs spent their time surrounded by flatterers, not saving glasses,” I replied, trying to sound light even though my heart was pounding.
A flicker of amusement crossed his gaze. “Maybe tonight I decided to change hobbies.”
He handed the glass back to me, his fingers brushing mine a second longer than necessary. That brief contact sent a shiver through me stronger than any word.
“What’s a model doing in a nest of financial sharks?” he asked, leaning in just slightly, as if he truly wanted to know.
I rolled my eyes. “I suppose someone likes to invite pretty ornaments to give their dinners a touch of glamour.”
He raised an eyebrow, as if the word bothered him. “You don’t seem like an ornament to me.”
I didn’t know what to say. He held my gaze in a way that seemed to strip me bare without laying a hand on me. Then he tilted his head toward a side balcony.
“Need some air? Everyone listens too much in here.”
He didn’t ask, didn’t plead, didn’t suggest. He simply said it as if it were inevitable. And I followed him.
The terrace was lit by warm lanterns. The city stretched below us like a sea of lights. I leaned against the railing, grateful for the fresh air. He stood beside me, so calm it drove me insane.
“Are you always this direct?” I asked, breaking the silence.
“This direct how?” His tone was amused, as if daring me to define him.
“So… sure of yourself. So aware of everything you do.”
“It’s part of the job,” he said, turning his gaze toward the city. “People trust someone who doesn’t hesitate.”
I glanced at him from the corner of my eye. The city lights highlighted the sharpness of his profile. I bit my lip without meaning to.
“And do you always watch people the way you watched me?” I asked, lifting my chin.
He slowly turned his head toward me, and there it was again—that stare. Intense. As if he had been studying me from the moment I walked in.
“No.” He let the word drop like a verdict. “Only when something deserves to be watched.”
My breath caught. Damn it. What was I supposed to say to that?
“Is that one of your CEO lines to seduce people at parties?” I tried to joke, desperate to escape the tension.
Theo gave a dangerous, slow smile. “Trust me, I don’t need lines.”
He moved closer, gradually, with a calmness that burned hotter than any sudden motion. His hand rested on the railing, just inches from mine. I could feel the heat radiating from his skin, though he hadn’t touched me yet.
“You’ve spent the whole night pretending to be indifferent,” he murmured. “But your eyes don’t know how to lie.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but he tilted his face close enough that his breath brushed against my cheek. “If I kiss you now, will you stop me?”
The air between us vibrated. My heart pounded so hard I swore it was audible.
“Maybe,” was all I managed to say.
He smiled, that half-arrogant smile only someone certain of victory could pull off. “Then I’m willing to take that risk.”
And he leaned in. His hand brushed my cheek, firm, as his lips claimed mine in a kiss that began slow, almost testing, but within seconds turned intense, charged with everything left unsaid through the night.
I felt his hand slide from my cheek to the curve of my neck, pressing just enough to tilt my head back and let him deepen the kiss.
The entire world seemed to vanish: not the piano inside, not the city lights below mattered as much as the way his lips took mine, like he had been waiting for this exact moment.
I pressed against the railing, searching for air, but he didn’t let me retreat too far. His other hand settled firmly on my waist, staking his claim through the satin fabric of my dress. The heat of his palm seeped through to my skin, pulling a sigh from me I hadn’t wanted to give… but did anyway.
Theo smiled against my mouth, as if he had just won a silent battle.
“I knew you wouldn’t stop me,” he murmured, his deep voice brushing my ear.
I dared to trail my fingers along his lapel, playing with the edge of his tie, just to tease him.
“And here I thought CEOs didn’t waste time on distractions.”
He lowered his head, his lips grazing my jaw before returning to my mouth, slower this time, deeper, as if determined to prove me wrong. His breath burned against my skin as he lowered just slightly, claiming the exact spot where my pulse raced.
“You’re not a distraction,” he whispered against my neck. “You’re a problem. And I love problems.”
His mouth continued to ravage mine with restrained hunger, and when his tongue slid deeper into mine, the kiss stopped being a game and became a wildfire. My hands no longer settled for the fabric of his lapel; they slipped down to his chest, feeling the tense muscles beneath his shirt.
Theo, on the other hand, had no hesitation in taking what he wanted. His hand on my waist slid slowly down to my hip, pulling me against him with the confidence of someone who feared no rejection. The satin of my dress bunched beneath his fingers, and for a fleeting second, I wondered what would happen if he decided to move further than allowed.
A gasp escaped my lips when he caught my bottom lip between his teeth and tugged lightly before devouring it again. He pulled back just enough to look at me with those burning eyes.
“You have no idea what you do to me,” he murmured, his voice rough with desire.
His mouth descended to my neck, first brushing with his lips and then grazing with teeth, drawing a shiver from me. One of my hands tangled in his hair, tugging hard when I felt him sucking at the skin just below my ear, as if he wanted to leave a mark.
He smiled against my neck, satisfied, while his other hand traveled from my hip to the curve of my thigh, right where the slit of my dress revealed bare skin. The heat of his palm dragged a strangled moan from me, and his eyes gleamed with triumph as he lifted the fabric just enough to explore further.
I no longer thought of the gala, the music, or the eyes inside. Only of us, the charged air, and his mouth claiming my skin.
Until the balcony door creaked open.
“Mr. Nott, they’re looking for you—” a male voice froze upon seeing us.
Theo didn’t immediately pull away. His thumb still traced circles on the bare skin of my thigh as he held my gaze, as if savoring the tension of being caught. Then, with infuriating calm, he straightened, adjusting his tie without breaking eye contact.
“Tell them to wait,” he ordered, without glancing at the intruder.
The assistant hesitated, stammered an apology, and clumsily shut the door.
