Page 14

Chapter fourteen

~ DAMIEN~

I watch her from the kitchen, still standing by the window, caught like a deer in headlights, and something dark and primal tightens in my chest. She's right there, so close yet so far, her hesitation more delicious than any conquest.

I uncap the whiskey, my eyes locked on her. She’s standing there, backlit by her bedside lamp, and she hasn’t turned away. Hasn’t even thought to pull the blinds. And judging by the way her gaze is sweeping her window, I know she’s looking for me, waiting for me to come out again.

The edge of my mouth curls into a smirk as I pour myself a glass, my gaze locked on her. She’s still clutching on her little towel, her eyes scanning her side of the glass, barely concealed by the glow of her bedside lamp. Part of her knows better than to wait, but she doesn’t move.

Perfect.

I type out a message, each word a hook I’m dragging her with, watching her read it in real time.

ME : Looking for someone?

I press send and watch, the screen illuminating her face as she reads. Her lips part, and her eyes snap back up, scanning my windows.

A small chuckle escapes me. She can’t see me from here. But I sure as hell can see her. She types with one hand, the other still wrapped around the towel.

AVERY: How much did you see?

I take a sip of my whiskey and reply with the utmost honesty.

ME: Not enough for my liking

She reads it almost immediately, and I can see the blush rising in her cheeks from here. She doesn’t reply right away, which only makes me lean in closer, fingers tapping slowly on the glass.

I rake a hand through my hair and walk over to the window, unable to stop the grin from stretching over my face as she sees me. Her eyebrows hitch just a fraction, and she looks ready to run. I type out another quick message and hit send.

ME: Do you like watching me as much as I like watching you?

She looks down at her phone, eyes widening slightly as she reads. Her response comes faster this time, and I can already imagine the tremor in her fingers as she types.

Avery: I’m not watching you

I let out a low, humorless laugh, running my tongue over my teeth as I type back.

Me: Such a little liar

She reads it, a flush creeping up her neck, and she glances at the blinds, clearly torn between pulling them shut or leaving herself there, exposed. Every second she stands there fuels the fire in me, her hesitation sharpening my need to push her, to drag her deeper into this until there’s nowhere left to hide.

Avery: You’re the one watching me like a creep

Ah, there it is. That little flash of defiance, a spark of something brave. I feel the thrill of it, dark and consuming, as I stare her down through the glass, not even trying to soften the intensity in my gaze.

Me: How can I resist when the view is so tempting?

Her mouth parts, and for a moment, she just stares at the phone, completely still. A long silence stretches between us. I don’t break eye contact, my stare unwavering, unyielding, and I can almost see her pulse quicken from here. She clutches the towel closer like it’ll somehow protect her from me, her grip tight around the edges.

Avery: You’re insane

Me: And you’re still standing there. With your blinds open. On full display for me.

Her jaw tightens. She still doesn’t move, and something tells me she doesn’t want to. A part of her craves this as much as I do; she just won’t admit it yet.

Me: You like this, don’t you? The idea of me watching.

She bites her lip, fingers hovering over the keys before typing back.

Avery: How long have you been standing there?

My smirk widens, something sharp and dangerous curling through me.

Me: Not long enough for you to stop hiding behind the towel

She swallows hard, hands trembling, her gaze flicking from her phone to me and back again. I’m taking my time with the whiskey, letting her feel the weight of my eyes on her, savoring every second of her hesitation. She holds onto that towel like it’s her last lifeline, knuckles going white against the fabric.

She hesitates, her expression flickering between defiance and uncertainty. She’s not stupid. She knows what I’m doing—baiting her, pulling her into a game she won’t win. And it’s working. There’s no thrill quite like watching her come to pieces; every thought she tries to cling to crumbling under the weight of my stare.

Her next reply is short and cautious, as if she’s not even sure she means it.

Avery: I’m not hiding

Me: Then prove it. Or keep clinging to that towel.

I see her chest move up and down rapidly as she struggles to make a decision. Her gaze lifts, and for a heartbeat, we’re locked in a silent standoff. The challenge hangs between us, thick and electric, a single misstep away from unraveling completely. And then, as if she’s making a decision she can’t take back, her fingers tighten around the towel, her breathing quick and shallow.

She doesn’t move but doesn’t look away either.

Me: You know where to find me, little liar.

She looks up at me, eyes wide. I simply cock my head to the side, motioning to my front door.

Me: Come here, Avery.

I let that sit, watching her reaction, the way her eyes flash with something close to panic mixed with excitement. And then, after a long, agonizing pause, she steps away from the window. I keep watching as she comes back into view, dressed in a satin sleeping set and fluffy slippers. She throws one last look at me and slips out of her door.

I walk over, turn on the dim lights, take the remote for the automated curtains, and with a click, they begin to slide toward each other. I pour another glass and wait, heartbeat steady until I hear the hesitant knock at my door. Good girl

A thrill runs through me, dark and exhilarating, as I open it to find her standing there in her sleep shorts and tank top. She came. She actually fucking came. All I want to do is fall at her feet and tell her how brave she is, but I force myself to stay put, plastering on a small, knowing smile instead.

She looks up, caught between excitement and caution, her chest rising and falling in quick breaths.

“Changed your mind?” I ask, my voice low, the weight of each word pressing on her.

Her cheeks flush as she tries to look away, her fingers fidgeting by her sides. But there’s nowhere to go, nowhere she can hide now that she’s here, standing on my threshold. She came to me. No more running.

I reach for her wrist, pulling her inside before she can react. She lets out a slight squeal, and the door clicks shut behind her. The sound reverberates through the room, loud against the backdrop of soft music, sealing her fate. Her breath hitches, and when I don’t let go of her wrist, she looks up, her eyes flickering with nervousness and thrill. She’s in my space now, under my control, and I have no intention of letting her leave.

“I didn’t think you’d actually have it in you,” I murmur, my voice dipping lower, darker.

Lies. I knew. I knew that fire hiding under there wouldn’t let her resist.

She swallows hard, her eyes meeting mine, but she doesn’t move. And then, as if she’s gathering every last shred of courage, she speaks.

“Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think.”

I smile at how wrong she is.

The words are brave, but the way she’s trembling betrays her. I can feel the barely controlled tension in her, in the way her breath stutters every time I draw her closer.

“Oh, I know exactly who and what you are,” I say, my hand sliding to her lower back. I can feel the sharp inhale she takes, her pulse fluttering against her skin, and it’s everything I can do not to pull her in and press my mouth to the curve of her neck, to taste every ounce of her hesitation and her thrill.

And then, I do exactly that. I let my head dip lower, my lips brushing her neck, and she shivers, her hands instinctively reaching out to clutch my shirt.

“Damien,” she whispers in a protest that’s weaker than her voice.

Don’t you Damien me, baby. You chose this. Time to claim your prize.

Her fingers tighten, her breathing rapid, and it only drives me harder, darker, until I can’t hold back any longer. My lips trail from her jaw to her neck before I pull away to take one last look at her before I devour her whole.

She’s looking up at me, eyes wide and lips parted. I study her face, taking in every silent plea she’s too scared to voice. But she doesn’t have to speak for me to know what she wants because it’s exactly what I want as well.

I lean down, capturing her full lips. Everything around me goes dark, and all I feel are her soft lips on mine. Her gasp is muffled by my mouth, my tongue sweeping in to taste her. She tastes of the sweetest sin. She stiffens for a moment, then melts against me as she surrenders to the kiss. I deepen it, needing more of her, my mouth turning fierce and consuming. Her guard shatters as her hands fist against my chest, pulling me closer as if the need for control has vanished.

Her kiss is electric, sparking through my veins like wildfire.

My hands slide from her face, tracing the curve of her neck before dipping beneath the strap of the satin tank top. My fingers brush against the soft skin of her collarbone.

The moment stretches, a simmering intensity between us that fills every inch of the space, every pulse of her heartbeat against mine. When I finally pull back, she’s breathless, her gaze unfocused, and I lean down, brushing my lips close to her ear.

“You have no idea what you do to me.”