Chapter 78: My Obsession.

Damiens POV

The world narrowed to the feeling of her skin against mine. Pure Bliss.

Rain lashed against the windows of the penthouse, matching the storm raging inside me. Lightning flashed, illuminating Celeste's face for a heartbeat, her eyes were half-closed, her lips parted, and her hair wild around her shoulders down to her waist. The thunder that followed drowned out her moaning as I gripped her hips harder.

"Tell me again," I demanded, my voice barely recognizable even to my own ears. The whiskey still burned in my blood, but the intoxication from her touch was stronger, the hardness in my core.

"I never wanted you to leave," she whispered, her hands clutching my shoulders and nails digging into my skin, leaving traces of pleasure. "That night on the boat... I waited for you."

The Lies or the truth, it didn't matter anymore. I had crossed a line by bringing her here, by letting the past spill from my lips like the whiskey I had been drinking all night. The rational part of my brain, the part that had built an empire, that calculated every risk, had gone silent the moment she walked through my door.

We hadn't made it to the bedroom. The trail of discarded clothing marked our path from the door to the living room, and her dress was by the entryway, my shirt was near the bar, and her lace underwear was torn by the sofa. The leather chair creaked beneath our weight as she rode me intensely, her pale skin glowing in the dim light from the city outside.

"Look at me," she commanded, taking my face between her hands. Her eyes, Williams' eyes. Held mine, forcing me to see her. Not as Victor's daughter. Not as an employee. Just Celeste.

"I see you," I growled, my hands sliding up her back and grabbing her tighter, feeling every inch of smooth skin. "I've always seen you."

The confession hung between us, more naked than we were. Three years of holding back,  of maintaining walls and boundaries, crumbled with those four simple words.

She moved against me, slow and deliberate, bringing her face closer to mine and consuming my lips with hers. "Then stop fighting this," she said and bit my lower lip.

My control snapped instantly. I stood suddenly, lifting her with me. Her legs wrapped around my waist as I carried her across the room, knocking a vase from the side table in my haste. It shattered on the hardwood floor, crystal shards scattering like diamonds in the dim light. Neither of us cared at the moment.

I pressed her against the cold glass of the window, the city spread out sixty floors below us. Her skin prickled with goosebumps where it touched the glass and her ass formed a heart shape imprint kissing the glass, but the heat between us could have melted steel.

"Everyone could see us," she whispered, her breath fogging the glass.

"Let them," I answered, lost in the feeling of her body against mine., I cupped her breasts carefully, tracing my fingers along her areola and teasing her.

Rain streaked down the outside of the window, distorting the city lights into watery stars. Her hand slipped between us, guiding me to her vaginal walls it was so fucking wet and creamy, and then there was nothing but the feel of her, the sound of her gasps mingling with the thunder outside.

We moved together my dick filling every hole inside her pussy as hot juices squished out, urgent and desperate, as if trying to make up for three years of distance in a single night. The alcohol in my system made everything more intense: her touch, every sound, every sensation magnified until I could barely tell where I ended and she began.

"Damien," she moaned, her head falling back against the glass. The sound of my name on her lips undid me further and made veins popped more in my dick.

I carried her to the thick carpet in front of the fireplace, laying her down without breaking our connection. Her hair spread out around her head like dark fire against the white carpet. I braced myself above her, watching her face in the flashes of lightning from outside.

"All this time," I said through gritted teeth, fighting for control, "you've been lying to me."

Her eyes opened, dark and wild. "We've both been lying." Her hands gripped my forearms, holding on as if afraid I'd disappear. "To each other. To ourselves."

The truth of her words hit harder than the whiskey. Every meeting in my office, every accidental touch, every late night working side by side, we'd both been pretending the pull between us wasn't there.

"Not anymore," I promised, bending to capture her mouth with mine in a soft, full French kiss, taking my time to explore every inch.

We moved together on the carpet, skin slick with sweat despite the cool air from the rain-washed windows. The alcohol made everything hazy around the edges, but Celeste remained in sharp focus, the only clear thing in a world gone blurry.

Her legs tightened around me as she arched upward and screamed. I buried my face in her neck, breathing in her scent,  something floral mixed with the musk of our bodies. The world beyond the penthouse ceased to exist.

"Look at me," she demanded again as she approached the edge. "I want to see your eyes when you let go."

I raised my head, meeting her gaze. In that moment, with our bodies joined and our eyes locked, no secrets remained between us. Everything I had hidden, desire, obsession, fear, need, lay exposed.

We crashed over the edge together, her name torn from my throat as lightning flashed again, illuminating every detail of her face as pleasure overtook her. For a moment that stretched into eternity, nothing existed but this, this connection, this woman, this truth we'd both denied for too long.

Afterward, we lay tangled together on the carpet, my arm beneath her head, her leg thrown over mine. The rain had softened to a gentle patter against the windows. The city lights twinkled beyond the glass, unconcerned with the boundaries we'd just shattered.

Her fingers traced invisible patterns on my chest, circling a scar near my collarbone.

"How did you get this?" she asked, voice husky from exertion.

"Sailing accident when I was twenty-two," I answered automatically, then paused, surprised at myself. I never shared personal details. Never allowed questions about my scars, physical or otherwise.

She smiled slightly, sensing the significance. "Tell me more."

And for the first time in years, with whiskey in my blood and truth in the air between us, I wanted to.

"I was racing my father's boat," I began, watching the ceiling rather than her face. "Trying to prove something..."

As rain washed the city clean outside, words I'd kept locked away for years spilled into the darkness of my penthouse. And Celeste, Victor's daughter, my employee, my obsession, listened, her body warm against mine, her fingers tracing paths across my skin as if mapping territories newly discovered.

By morning, nothing would be the same. But for now, in the storm-washed darkness, bridges weren't the only things burning between us.