Chapter 142 Always Yes
Bella
Damien kisses me with the confidence of a man who knows exactly what he wants from life. The ring on my finger catches the candlelight when I lift my hand to his chest, pale colours threading through the stone, but even that feels secondary to the way his heartbeat answers mine without question. The ring is beautiful, truly, but nothing compares to this man. When he finally pulls back, our foreheads rest together, breath mingling, laughter caught somewhere between disbelief and relief. Somewhere inside Damien, his dragon hums, pleased and proud and smug in a way that makes my lips twitch even through the emotion threatening to overwhelm me.
“I should say something profound,” I murmur, hands still fisted in the fabric of his shirt. “Something eloquent and queen-like.”
He smiles against my mouth. “You already said yes.”
“I know,” I whisper. “I just want to keep saying it.”
His arms tighten around me, fire held carefully at bay so it never overwhelms the frost that lives beneath my skin. He kisses me again, slower this time, like he’s memorising me in this moment, and I realise I’m doing the same. The feel of his mouth, the way his thumbs brush away the tears I hadn’t noticed falling, the scent of candlewax and night air and home. The kiss deepens without warning. One moment we’re breathing each other in, the next his tongue traces the seam of my lips, asking permission I’ve already given. I open for him, and the heat of him pours in and melts every frozen inch of me. My fingers slide into his hair, tugging just enough to earn a low growl from deep in his chest. The sound vibrates through me, waking every nerve. He lifts me without breaking the kiss, strong hands sliding beneath my thighs. I wrap my legs around his waist instinctively, the soft cotton of my pants shifting against his hips as he carries me to the wide cushioned bench in the gazebo. He lowers us both until my back meets them and pulls back just far enough to look at me. His eyes are molten gold, pupils blown wide, dragon peering out through the man.
“Tell me to stop,” he says, voice rough, “and I will.”
I reach for the collar of his shirt, fingers trembling only because the need is so sharp. “Don’t you dare.”
He smiles and lets me work the buttons free. The linen parts, revealing bronzed skin stretched over muscle, the faint shimmer of scales beneath like hidden treasure. I trace them with my fingertips, feeling the heat radiate outward, warming the frost that clings to my skin. Wherever I touch, steam rises in delicate curls, the air between us thickening with mist. His hands find the hem of my shirt. He doesn’t tear it off; he savours it, sliding it up slowly, inch by inch, letting his palms glide over my ribs, the curve of my waist, the swell of my breasts. The fabric catches briefly on my shoulders before he pulls it over my head and tosses it aside. Cool night air meets warmer skin, and I shiver from his gaze devouring me. My bra is simple black lace, but it feels like nothing under that stare. He reaches behind me, unhooks it and lets it fall away. My nipples tighten under the sudden exposure, and when he lowers his head to take one into his mouth, I arch with a gasp that fogs the surrounding air. Heat floods me where his tongue circles, the fire in his veins meeting the ice in mine. Steam blooms across my skin, tiny clouds that drift upward and mingle with the candle smoke. Every lick, every gentle scrape of teeth, sends rivulets of warmth chasing through me until I’m trembling, slick and aching between my thighs.
“Damien,” I breathe, tugging at his hair again. He obliges, kissing a path down my sternum, across my stomach, pausing to nip at the sensitive skin just above the waistband of my pants. He hooks his fingers under the band, tugging them down along with my underwear in one smooth motion. The fabric slides off my legs, leaving me bare beneath the stars. He kneels between my thighs, shoulders broad enough to block out half the candlelight, and looks up at me like I’m the only thing that has ever mattered.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, voice reverent. “And you’re mine.”
I reach for him, pulling him back up so I can kiss him again, tasting myself on his tongue when he finally lets me. His pants are still on, and I fumble with the button until he helps, shoving them down just enough. His cock springs free, thick and hot against my thigh, and I wrap my hand around him, stroking once, twice, feeling the pulse of fire beneath velvet skin.
He groans into my mouth, hips jerking. “Bella—”
I guide him to me, slick and ready, and he pushes in slowly, inch by torturous inch. The stretch is exquisite, the heat of him filling every cold hollow inside me. He stills when he’s fully seated, forehead pressed to mine, breathing hard.
“Gods,” he rasps. “You feel—”
I clench around him, deliberately, and his words dissolve into a growl. Then he moves, slow at first, deep rolls of his hips that drag against every sensitive place inside me. Each thrust sends fresh steam billowing upward, misting our skin, making the candles flicker wildly. I meet him, hips rising, nails scoring down his back. He hisses at the sting, but it only makes him thrust harder, faster, until the rhythm is relentless, primal. Fire and ice collide with every stroke. Where his heat presses into me, frost blooms across his shoulders, only to melt instantly into more steam. The gazebo fills with it—soft, white clouds that catch the candlelight and turn the night into something dreamlike. My legs lock around his waist, heels digging into his back, urging him deeper. He shifts his angle, grinding against that perfect spot inside me, and pleasure coils so tight I can barely breathe.
“Damien—” My voice breaks on his name.
One hand slides between us, fingers finding my clit and circling with the same deliberate pressure he used on my shirt earlier. The combination undoes me. Heat explodes outward, ice shattering into a thousand glittering shards. I come with a cry that echoes off the stone pillars, body clenching around him, pulling him deeper. Steam surges in a sudden thick wave, enveloping us completely, warm and damp and scented with sex and fire and frost. He follows seconds later, burying himself to the hilt with a guttural sound that vibrates through my bones. Heat pulses inside me, filling me, mingling with my own release until the steam is so dense I can taste it on my tongue. We stay locked together, panting, sweat-slick and trembling. The mist slowly clears, revealing the candles still burning, the stars still watching. Damien presses soft kisses to my temple, my cheek, my mouth.
“I love you,” he whispers, like it’s a vow renewed.
I smile against his lips, fingers threading through his hair. “I love you too. Always.”