Chapter Thirty

Past

T he moment we are inside Damian’s car, his arm wraps around my shoulders, pulling me closer until there’s barely any space between us. I bury my face in the crook of his neck, seeking solace in the familiar scent of his cologne, craving the comfort after the emotionally exhausting night.

After Damian found me in the treehouse, I made the decision to leave the party with him without saying goodbye to anyone, not even to Dad. I felt utterly drained and lacked the energy or desire to face them again. Damian understood and without breaking the silence, ushered me to his car. With a heavy heart, I opted for a brief text message to Dad, informing him that I had arranged for an Uber and was on my way out.

The snide remarks echo in my ears once again and I screw my eyes shut and cling to him even tighter. Damian tightens his arm around me. His other hand finds mine and he presses kisses on my knuckles. “They will pay,” he mutters, his voice low and filled with a coldness I’ve never heard before. The words hang in the air, heavy with an ominous promise that makes my heart race.

Drawing back, I look up at him. “What?”

His gaze pins me in place. I struggle to comprehend the intensity of his emotions. A storm is brewing behind those usually calm and composed eyes, a lethal determination that threatens to consume everything in its path.

For a moment, silence is heavy between us. As I keep looking into his eyes, I see something I’ve never seen before—a raw, unbridled fury that burns brighter than anything I’ve ever witnessed.

This Damian is so different from the composed man I’ve always known, a man rarely showing signs of distress or losing his cool.

It’s both terrifying and exhilarating, to see him so consumed by emotion. And that too for me. Damian has always kept his emotions guarded behind a wall. But now that wall is crumbling, revealing the depths of his rage in all its glory.

For the first time, someone is angry for me instead of with me. Someone is willing to stand up for me, to fight on my behalf. It shows that I have my own person in this big bad world. A person who can hurt when I am hurt. One who can hold me just like he is holding me when things get too much.

Tears well up in my eyes again. So I bury my face against his chest and listen to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Here, in this moment, I know that I’m safe. Safe in the arms of a man who would do anything to protect me.

“What you said... it’s enough,” I murmur. When he says nothing, I pull back and reach up, cupping his face with my hands, searching his eyes for any sign of understanding. “You’ll not do anything to them.”

What my dad did tonight was utterly disgraceful. He deliberately invited Damian to publicly humiliate him, unaware of Damian’s potential for far more sinister actions. He should’ve researched about Damian like I did when I was infatuated with him. He is known for ruthless acquisitions and takeovers, executed with a merciless precision whenever he felt slighted. I’ve delved into enough articles detailing his cutthroat tactics to know that crossing him could lead to consequences far beyond mere embarrassment.

So I know when he declared, They will pay, it wasn’t just a casual remark. It resonated with a sense of purpose and determination that signaled Damian meant serious business.

There’s no response from him, only the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathes.

“I know you want to protect me,” I say, my thumb tracing gentle circles on his hollowed cheek. “And you do, every day. Just by being here, holding me like this, you’re protecting me more than you know.”

Silence hangs heavy between us, his expression unreadable but I press on, determined. “When I said I was yours earlier, Damian, I meant it,” I confess, offering a sincere smile. “But what I didn’t say was that you’re just as much mine. The Thompsons are big shots, and even though you’re getting stronger every day, they could still crush you. And if they do, they’ll crush me too, because we’re in this together. Can you really stand to see me hurt?”

His jaw is set in a line.

“Tell me?” I urge. I see his dark eyes flashing before his mouth takes possession of mine. Forcing my lips apart in a rough move that rocks me to my core. It should’ve scared me. The way he is devouring my lips. But fear is the last thing on my mind. Instinctively, I cling to him, burning in the fire of his passionate kiss. My head spins and my skin prickles with goosebumps.

Make him understand! My mind screams at me. He can lose so much if he decided to lock horns with the Thompsons. I am not sure if Dad would understand if I tried telling him about the bullying and Damian’s reaction. Because then I would have to tell Dad I’m dating Damian.

So even if I didn’t want to, I attempt to break the kiss by pulling away. But he pushes his fingers in my curls to keep me where he wants me. Shivers run up and down my spine at his dominance but I reluctantly reach up to clasp his head with both hands. On a muffled moan, I try to pull his head away, to make him listen to me but his tongue against mine feels like heaven and I find my attempts of breaking the kiss weakening.

Just when I’m about to lose myself in the moment, Damian ends the kiss. Heart racing, I tremble like a leaf, my eyes screwed shut. I can hear his hard breathing. Can feel the weight of his gaze but don’t dare move.

This is what you wanted! I cry out internally. He stopped! Now, go on! Tell him what you wanted to say so we can get back to what we were doing! I curse myself.

When the silence gets suffocating, I open my eyes. I meet his night eyes and my mouth goes dry.

“You underestimate me, angel. In business or life, the only one capable of defeating me is myself.” His voice is deeper, huskier from the kiss. It’s so delicious that wetness pools between my legs.

I turn my head away, flustered. He takes my chin and brings my eyes back on him. My heart skips a beat. He is devouring me with his dark eyes. Openly. Shamelessly.

This time, when Damian bends his head to kiss me again, I meet his lips eagerly, doing what I wanted to do earlier, submit.

The kiss hits me with a force that every other thought scatters and evaporates. I forget that we are in his car. I forget about the Thompsons. Forget that I was scared for Damian and his still growing business. I even forget about the taunts they cut me open with. His hunger drives away the last of my inhibitions.

With the other hand, he jerks me closer, making my breasts rub against his shirt. The heat emanating through him makes my nipples painfully tight.

He feels so good, I think internally as my greedy fingers run over his shirt, going up, up, up until I find the hot skin of his throat. I moan when I caress his smooth neck before spearing my fingers into his silky black hair.

There it was again. The wild throbbing. Each and every cell in my body is throbbing with need.

Something is different tonight. He feels different. It’s like the ironclad control he typically wields has been stripped from him. Every time we’re together, I try to push things further than just kissing, but he’s always the one to pull back, keeping us from crossing the boundary. But not tonight. Tonight, there’s a hunger in his touch that matches my own.

His arms gather me, pulling me into his lap. The skirt of the gown rides up as my knees falls on either side of his thighs. My hands are tangled in his dark hair while his move over my body with fevered urgency.

When he thrusts upwards against my pussy, my insides clench violently and a loud moan slips from my lips. My heart soars. Yes! This is it. My lungs burn from the lack of oxygen. It hurts not being able to breathe but I smile internally. Because it would hurt even more if he stopped.

The ache between my thighs increases tenfold. It becomes absolutely unbearable. I want him inside me. Sheer shock grabs me by the throat at the thought. I always desired Damian. His kisses always left me wanting for more, dreaming for more . But this… urgency in me is new. The blood in my veins is so hot with desire, I’m scared it will burn me alive.

I rock against him, moaning, urging him to do that again but everything comes to a halt. One minute we are writhing against each other and the next he is drawing back with a ragged sigh.

I open my haze-filled eyes, heartbeat thumping and heat pulsing between my thighs. “Damian?” I whisper-pant. His mouth tightens. To my dismay, he lifts me from his lap and gently places me back to the seat.

“We’re here,” he says calmly while I can barely breathe, let alone speak. I peer out of the window and realize we are parked in front of my apartment building.

My gaze darts to his face, searching for any hint of what he’s feeling, but his expression is unreadable, his features schooled into that familiar mask of control.

I blink several times as I fight to rein back the tears threatening me, cut to the bone at his rejection. A wave of hurt washes over me. It’s not the first time he’s pulled away like this. But after the night I’ve had, his rejection has left me feeling even more worthless.

I swallow hard, trying to push down the lump that’s formed in my throat, threatening to choke me. With trembling hands, I reach for the door handle, desperate to escape the suffocating confines of the car.

As I step out onto the pavement, my vision blurred with tears, I start to run toward the building, my heart pounding in my ears. It’s okay. I’m just being emotional. Damian loves me. He just doesn’t want to cross the line because of our age gap. I try to convince myself that his rejection didn’t mean anything but doubts begin to flood my mind. Does he really want me? He does because he was hard. Then why?

I love Damian. I want him like a woman wants a man, with a hunger that cannot be quenched by mere words or gestures. There’s nothing wrong in that, is there? Then why am I feeling ashamed? The funny thing is I am not ashamed enough to deny this want.

I am sure he didn’t mean to humiliate me but he unconsciously succeeded. A sob traps in my throat as I hurry but my foot catches on a crack in the pavement, and I stumble forward, bracing myself for the impact.

But before I can hit the ground, something stops me. Strong arms wrap around me, pulling me back. I look up, my vision swimming with tears, and meet his brilliant dark eyes.

I try to pull away from him, unable to stand more humiliation. He doesn’t let go. With a swift, fluid motion, he sweeps me off my feet. My breath catches in my throat, and for a moment, all I can do is cling to him, my arms wrapping tightly around his neck as if he’s my lifeline. His touch is electrifying, sending shivers racing down my spine, and as he holds me close, I can feel the warmth of his body seeping into my bones, chasing away the chill of the night air.

He doesn’t offer comforting words. Does not try to ask questions but simply holds me. His silence… sometimes causes more hurt than his words ever could. It doesn’t matter how in tune with me he is to realize what I’m thinking or going through.

Sometimes, you just need more than being in tune. You need more than silence. Sometimes, you need words. And actions to prove that you care about your partner. That you love them.

Still smarting from his rejection, I squirm, attempting to slide down but he tightens his arms around me. His jaw set in a stubborn line as he carries me back toward the car. Sighing, I let myself rest against him, too spent to fight him.

My blood warms again. My senses become heightened once more. His scent amplifying everything, making it difficult for me not to kiss him.

He lowers me into the backseat before following and slamming the door shut. I scoot as far away from him as possible. The slamming of the door convinced me that he is pissed and doesn’t want me with him right now. Then why come after me?

I turn my face away as I will the tears to go away before they can escape.

“I’m sorry.” He speaks. I stop breathing.

“I got carried away. If I could take it back…” he trails and I lower my eyes. He would take it back? My heart clenches in agony.

“You don’t want me,” I say, straining to keep my emotion veiled.

“That’s not true. You know that.”

“You don’t want me enough then.”

“I do.”

There is a rustle against the leather seat and Damian is suddenly in my space. He effortlessly angles my body so he can stare at my face. I struggle to shift away but he drags me back against him. “I didn’t stop to humiliate you, River.”

I avert my gaze. He reaches out, cupping my face in his hand, making me face him again. “You deserve so much more than a hurried, fumbling encounter in the back of a car.”

I swallow thickly, my heart wavering, wanting to believe him.

“I want you.” He lifts my chin. “More than you want me.”

My mouth goes dry.

“I’ll take you when the time is right. And when I do, I’ll make it unforgettable,” his dark, deep voice rumbles, his eyes smoldering with intensity.

My face heats up, heart racing at his promise. His words send a thrill coursing through me, igniting a fire that burns with a fervent longing. And although I want to hide my colored face with my hands, I find myself staring at him instead. He is just so breathtaking. I drink him in. There is not one thought left in my mind that contained anger or hurt or disappointment.

I know that whenever that moment arrives, it will be an explosion of passion unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. It will be worth the wait. I just know it. Because in his arms, I find a desire that knows no bounds, a hunger that can never be quenched, a love that burns with an intensity that leaves me weak in the knees.

My lips part as he draws me in closer. I can feel the heat between us, a palpable tension in the air like static electricity. He cradles my head as he thoroughly devours me. But the kiss ends before I can kiss him back. And then he takes me to the place I am beginning to call home. Our mansion.