“Is someone there?” a sleepy voice grumbled from the other side of the door.
Now you’ve done it, I thought to myself.
With trembling fingers, I reached for the key in my pocket and turned the lock to the door. Damien was sitting up on his bed, soft moonlight shining on half of his features, while the rest were masked in deep shadows. I noticed too late that he wasn’t wearing a shirt, his chest on display for me. I hadn’t been able to truly appreciate the gods’ craftsmanship the other night; I’d been too out of my mind with pleasure and alcohol. His hair was mussed and shaggy, and those striking blue eyes drifted up my body.
“What’re you doing here?” he asked, voice rough.Not from sleep, I quickly realized as his gaze bore into me. Because even in the dim lighting, I could see the desire pulsing through his body.
“Would you believe me if I told you I didn’t know?” I asked, standing by the door. One hand remained on the door, as if I would turn and run, while the other lay flat against my stomach. Stepping inside, I quickly shut the door and leaned against it.
Damien didn’t say anything, his eyes remaining locked on my every movement. “You’re wearing a gown,” he said, though the lilting end made it sound more like a question.
I nodded. “Yes, there was—” I cut myself off, looking down at the floor. Fuck. How was I supposed to tell him that the woman he used to love, or possibly still did, was mated and married? He’d known, anyone in his situation would have, but to learn of its occurrence was another thing entirely.
He sucked in a breath, guessing at the information anyway. “They’re married,” he breathed.
I nodded again. “It was more of a mating ceremony than a wedding, but yes.”
He dropped his gaze to the floor, his hands pushing back strands of hair that fell right back into his face. “Good,” he whispered. “They deserve happiness after everything I put them through. I’m glad she found it.”
There wasn’t a hint of dishonesty behind his words. He meant them all. I stepped forward, but what could I say or do? Instead, I chuckled. “I shouldn’t have come. My feet are killing me, I just stubbed my toe, and—“
“Then sit,” he said, voice low.
“What?”
He stood, his broad back nearly blocking out the light of the full moon in the sky, casting me into darkness. “I said to sit.” He motioned toward the chair at his desk. Neither of us moved, my heart racing in my chest.
Get out, get out, get out, that voice chanted in my mind.Get out before you can’t.
But I was foolish, reckless even, as I made my way toward his desk and hopped on top of it. I fixed the fabric around my thighs, the small slit at the bottom showcasing my calves. Damien’s eyes dipped down to the bare skin, and I watched as he closed his eyes for a brief moment before stalking over and kneeling at my feet.
He reached out with gentle reverence, placing my foot on top of his knee while his fingers deftly worked. He gripped my calf, and I groaned as his thumb pressed softly into the ball of my foot, moving slowly. His lips quivered as he switched to the next one foot and repeated the process.
But as he pressed into the other sole, his eyes drifted slowly to the aching heat between my legs. His tongue darted across his lips as he leaned in, an automatic response to our bodies calling to one another. He trailed his nose along my calf, inhaling my scent. As his eyes opened, they’d gone dark. Those bright blue beacons had turned molten.
His attention was stifling. I clenched my thighs together, aching for some kind of friction against my pussy to relieve the ache he caused. Dark eyes tracked my movement, his grip on my calves increasing with each moment that passed.
Oh gods. Oh gods. What was I doing? This was a mistake. This was a—
Damien moved with impressive quickness, wrapping his hands within my hair and pulling my body to his. The pressure stung, but in a way that made me feel alive. Being with him was like waking up from a long slumber—disorienting at first, but then my senses kicked on and I followed where they led.
To him.
“You should go,” he whispered against my lips. “I’m a bad man, Renai.”
“I can’t,” I whispered back, holding his gaze before leaning forward to close the distance between us.
He tasted of mint, the spiciness taking my breath away as his tongue darted out to clash against mine. It was sinful. He moaned as I wrapped my legs around his waist, tangling the two of us together. I couldn’t get enough of him, wanted him deeper. Closer.
My hands roamed over his skin, relishing the heat of his flesh against my own. His muscles rippled underneath as my nails dug into him. “You can still leave, Renai. You can leave and we can forget this ever happened,” he said, pressing kisses along my jaw and down my neck as he went. “This doesn’t have to go any further if you don’t want it to, because I—“
His words cut off as I reached for the strap of my dress and pulled it down, baring my breasts to him. He watched in wonder, rapture, as my fingers caressed my own flesh.
“I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop, if we don’t stop now,” he finished, throat bobbing.
“Does it look like I want to stop?” I asked, my dress pooling around my waist. I wanted this dress off, to throw the fabric on the floor and only touch him.
“But we should. Oh gods, we should. You deserve more. You deserve better—“
