Chapter 158
Aria’s POV
Something in his eyes—a vulnerability beneath the command—made my resistance crumble. When he pulled me toward the water, I didn't fight it, letting the cold and heat wash over me simultaneously.
Water soaked through my silk blouse and pencil skirt as I fell against him, his arms steadying me. I gasped at the sudden immersion, my hands instinctively bracing against his shoulders.
"You're still dressed," he observed, fingers already working on the buttons of my blouse.
"Your wound," I said, noticing how the pink scar tissue tensed as he moved. "We shouldn't—"
"I decide what we should or shouldn't do." His voice was low, his breath warm against my ear. Each button came undone under his skilled fingers, exposing more of my skin to the warm water.
I swallowed hard, watching his face for any sign of pain. "Does it hurt?"
"Yes." His eyes locked with mine. "But I've learned to find pleasure in certain kinds of pain."
My blouse floated away in the water. Devon's hand moved to my waist, carefully pulling me closer while avoiding pressure on his wound. I couldn't stop thinking about the perfume I'd smelled in his car. Another woman had been there, probably hours before me. The thought stung more than it should have.
"You're thinking too much," Devon murmured, his lips brushing my neck. "I can practically hear your brain working."
"Sorry," I whispered, trying to focus on his touch instead of my thoughts. "Long day."
His fingers traced the curve of my spine. "Tell me about Harper Group. Did anyone oppose your new position?"
Even now, in this intimate moment, business was never far from his mind. Or maybe he knew discussing work would distract me from whatever jealousy I was feeling.
"Two managers loyal to Scarlett." I closed my eyes as his hands moved to my shoulders, massaging gently. "I fired them on the spot."
Devon's soft laugh rumbled through his chest against mine. "That's my girl."
My girl. The possessiveness in those two words sent a shiver through me despite the warm water. I knew I shouldn't crave his approval, his possession, but I did. Even knowing there were probably other women, even suspecting he might see me as just another conquest—I couldn't stop the warmth spreading through my body at his touch.
His lips found mine, surprisingly gentle at first, then more demanding. I responded eagerly, my fingers threading through his damp hair, careful not to press against his injured abdomen. When his hands moved to the zipper of my skirt, I didn't stop him.
"You shouldn't have ignored my messages today," he said, his voice rougher now. "I don't like being ignored, Aria."
"I was busy." My skirt joined my blouse somewhere in the water. "Being Vice President is demanding work."
"So is being my woman." His eyes darkened. "Which do you think matters more to me?"
I should have been offended by his arrogance, but instead, I felt a thrill run through me. This man—dangerous, possessive, probably seeing other women—had supported me, had helped me claim my rightful place at Harper Group. My body responded to him instinctively, leaning into his touch despite the warnings in my head.
"You're dangerous for me," I admitted softly.
Devon's smile was slow and predatory. "Yes. And yet, here you are."
"Here I am," I echoed, surrendering to the inevitable pull between us.
His hand cupped my face, thumb tracing my bottom lip. "The question is, why? Why do you keep coming back when you clearly have reservations?"
I didn't have a good answer—or rather, I had one but was afraid to admit it, even to myself. Instead of speaking, I kissed him again, my body pressing against his, mindful of his wound but desperate for his touch.
Water splashed over the edges of the tub as Devon pulled me onto his lap, positioning me carefully to avoid his injury. His hands were everywhere, leaving trails of heat across my skin. I was sinking—not just into the water, but into him, into whatever this was between us that I couldn't seem to resist despite knowing better.
And in that moment, with the city lights glittering beyond the windows and Devon's hands claiming every inch of me, I stopped trying to resist at all.
---
I woke with a start, my body heavy with exhaustion. The silk sheets felt cool against my skin as I blinked away the haze of deep sleep. My hand instinctively reached to the other side of the bed, finding it empty and cold. Devon was gone.
A flicker of disappointment passed through me, though I quickly pushed it away. This wasn't supposed to be about emotions. I sat up, wincing at the soreness in my muscles, memories of last night flooding back. My first day as Vice President of Harper Group had been exhilarating, but the celebration with Devon afterward had left me completely drained.
I glanced at my phone: 7:30 AM. No wonder he was already up. I noticed three missed calls from Sophia and a text about our morning meeting. Anxiety crept in as I realized how behind schedule I was.
Looking around the minimalist bedroom of his penthouse, I spotted no sign of my clothes. Wrapping the sheet around me, I carefully slid out of bed and tiptoed toward the walk-in closet. Maybe I could find something to wear and slip out quietly. The last thing I needed was another round with Devon before my second day at Harper Group.
"Looking for something, Ms. Harper?"
I froze, sheet clutched tightly to my chest. Devon stood leaning against the doorframe, coffee mug in hand, watching me. His face remained neutral, but his eyes held a certain intensity that made my heart beat faster. His hair was still damp from a shower, and he wore nothing but black pants that hung low on his hips.
"Apparently my clothes," I replied, trying to sound casual despite my compromised position. "Some of us have important meetings to attend."
"Seems my punishment last night wasn't thorough enough if you still have energy for sneaking around." His eyes narrowed slightly, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward as his gaze traveled slowly down my sheet-covered body.
I felt heat rise to my cheeks, remembering exactly what his "punishment" had entailed. Something about his possessive gaze made me both irritated and oddly pleased.
"If you properly prepared guest clothing, I wouldn't need to sneak," I said, lifting my chin slightly in defiance.
Devon studied my face for a moment, his expression softening almost imperceptibly. "Who said anything about you leaving?" He stepped aside, gesturing toward the kitchen. "Breakfast first. Then we talk business."