Wife chasing Billionaire's Adoration.

WARNING: This chapter contains sexual content. Only readers 18 and above are allowed. Reader discretion is advised.

Sandra stumbled into her hotel room and immediately grabbed a bottle of water, chugging it down. It was a mistake; she felt sicker. Without realizing it, she failed to completely close her hotel room door. She rushed into the bathroom, emptying her stomach into the toilet bowl. After there was nothing left to vomit, feeling utterly gross, she stripped off her clothes and stepped into a quick shower, hoping to sober up.

Feeling somewhat better, she lay in bed. Maybe it was the alcohol, but she felt an intense desire for a man's touch, to be caressed and held. She chuckled with self-deprecation, murmuring to herself, "You're a withered, thirsty plant, Sandra." Closing her eyes, she drifted off to sleep, hoping a handsome man would visit her in her dreams.

After what felt like an eternity, Roland finally reached the 13th floor. His vision was blurring, but with effort, he scanned the door numbers, searching for room 1308. When he found it, the door was already slightly ajar; he pushed it open without a second thought.

Too disoriented to care, he headed straight for a cold shower. It brought some clarity back, easing the pain. Roland quickly messaged Andreas, telling him not to come, just to pick him up in the morning.

Still feeling discomfort, Roland turned off the lights and lay down. The moment his body touched the bed, he felt something brush against his legs. Lifting the blanket, he was shocked to see a naked woman lying there.

Just like that, the cold shower he'd taken seemed futile as the pain in his lower body flared up again. His hands shook, his arousal undeniable.

The beast within him surged, ready to take control. Justifying his next actions, he thought, 'You've delivered yourself to me, lady.'

In her sleepy state, Sandra felt a hand on her waist, caressing her thighs. 'I'm having a very vivid dream,' she thought, responding by clutching the man's nape with her hands. The kisses and touches felt so real, igniting a burning sexual desire within her. She opened her eyes lazily, seeing the silhouette of a handsome man above her. 'Yes, this is definitely a dream,' she concluded.

Roland felt the woman beneath him respond, igniting his desire even more. He sucked on her perfectly shaped, delicate breasts. Her heavy breathing and moans spurred him on as he teased her between her legs, slowly inserting a finger.

She arched her back in pleasure, which only made him harder, driving him to the edge of madness. Even if it was the drug, he knew that if he were repulsed by her, no substance could compel him to touch her.

Sandra, caught in her dreamland, pulled at his hair in intense pleasure, thinking this was the sweetest dream she'd ever had. She didn't want to wake up.

But Roland couldn't hold back any longer. He needed to claim her. As he began to enter her, he cursed under his breath, "F*ck, she's a virgin?"

The sharp pain jolted Sandra, her eyes snapping open. The pain was too real; she was awake. Shock and horror overwhelmed her in the dark room, where she could only make out the man's silhouette and the sharp outline of his head. Shaking with fear, she shouted, "Who are you?" She tried to push him away with all her might, but his muscular body didn't budge.

Tears streamed down her face as he continued to penetrate her slowly, each movement feeling like it was tearing her apart.

"Please, stop, I'm begging you," she cried, but the man seemed deaf to her pleas.

Roland heard her cries and felt her tears, but it only fueled his desire further. He pried her open slowly but surely. Her whimpers and cries made the beast within him go berserk, driving him to lose control even more.

Roland lost the last shred of rationality he possessed. He grabbed her hands, which had been trying to push him away, and pinned them above her head with one of his own. With his other hand, he lifted one of her legs, opening her up more to him.

Sandra felt pain and pleasure alternating in her consciousness. She was begging him to stop, but she couldn't understand why her body wasn't responding as she wanted. Was it the alcohol? Her sweet dream was morphing into a pleasurable nightmare.