Chapter 30 DESIRE.
\~~~SERENA.
I wished, very desperately, that the floor would open up and swallow me whole.
Right here, and right now.
Just crack open and drag me straight into the earth so I wouldn’t have to stand here feeling this hot, embarrassed, painfully aware of myself, and replaying last night like a cursed movie I couldn’t pause.
God.
Why did I drink so much?
Why did I always do this to myself?
I knew I was lightheaded. I knew alcohol never sat well with me. I knew that one glass always turned into two, and two always turned into me losing every ounce of self-control I worked so hard to keep.
And yet, here I was.
Sober, awake, and remembering everything.
I squeezed my eyes shut and groaned softly, rubbing my face with both hands.
Why, Serena? Why?
Then his words came back to me. Clear. Slow. Dangerous.
“When you’re sober, if you look me in the eye and say this again… I won’t stop myself. I will make you wish you never said it. But tonight? Tonight, you are going to sleep.”
My stomach flipped.
Heat pooled low in my belly, sudden and sharp, like my body remembered before my brain could stop it.
God, that was hot as fuck.
I bit my lip, pressing my knees together slightly.
Did he mean it?
Would he really…?
No. No, no, no.
Serena, stop it.
This man was not someone I was supposed to covet. He was not someone I was meant to look at this way. This was all wrong, so wrong.
I knocked my knuckles lightly against my forehead.
“Jesus,” I muttered. “Get a grip.”
When I lifted my head, Damien was standing right in front of me.
I sucked in a sharp breath, startled, and before I could stop myself, a small hiccup escaped my lips.
Great. Just great.
He looked down at me, his expression unreadable, calm in that infuriating way that made me feel like he was always ten steps ahead of me.
He dropped his hand on my shoulder.
And just like that, my body reacted instantly.
I stiffened, then melted, heat spreading through me in a way that made absolutely no sense. His touch was firm but not rough, grounding but intimate, like he knew exactly where to place his hand to make me aware of him.
Then his fingers slid under my chin.
“Look at me,” he said quietly.
I hesitated for half a second before lifting my face.
His eyes met mine, dark and steady, holding me in place. My hiccup came again, softer this time, and my breath was uneven.
“Tell me,” he said. “Do you think I should have listened to you last night?”
My heart slammed against my ribs.
“I…” My voice cracked. “I was drunk.”
He didn’t let go of my chin.
“Does that make everything you said a lie?”
I swallowed.
My eyes betrayed me as they dropped straight to his torso.
He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and I hated… I really hated how my gaze traced the lines of his abdomen, the way his muscles shifted when he moved, the faint veins running along his skin.
My breath hitched.
I wondered, horribly, and shamelessly, where those veins ended.
Oh Lord, help me. Please.
This was not normal.
This was not me.
Damien leaned closer.
His body heat surrounded me, his presence overwhelming in a way that made my knees feel weak. His breath brushed my face as he spoke, his voice dropping into something quieter, deeper.
“Now,” he whispered, “all you have to do is say the word.”
His arm slid around my waist slowly and deliberately.
My breath left me in a broken sound that I couldn’t stop and a soft, helpless moan slipped past my lips before I could swallow it back.
I froze, mortified as my body felt like it was on fire.
How… how was this even possible?
This was just a touch. A simple touch. It wasn’t supposed to make me feel like my entire system had short-circuited.
“What the fuck,” I breathed.
What did this old man have that the men I had known before didn’t?
Because this… this… was dangerous.
Damien was hot. No, hot didn’t even cover it. He was… overwhelmingly, unfairly attractive. The kind that didn’t need to try. The kind that crept under your skin and stayed there.
And if I was being honest, and truly honest with myself, I wanted nothing more than to feel him fully and completely. To know what it would be like to have his attention, his focus, his control.
That realization scared me.
“I…” I swallowed hard. “I was drunk, Damien.”
My voice came out low, shaky.
He didn’t move away.
“I didn’t dispute that,” he said calmly. “But you should know better than to tease someone like that.”
My breath caught.
“To start something,” he continued, his thumb pressing lightly at my waist, “that you’re not prepared to finish.”
My pulse raced.
“I didn’t mean to,” I whispered. “I’m sorry.”
He studied my face for a long moment, as if weighing something heavy in his mind.
His hand moved then, up my back, slow and careful, not claiming, not demanding. Just there.
It made my chest ache.
“You don’t apologize for desire,” he said quietly. “You apologize for recklessness.”
I nodded faintly, my lashes lowering.
“I understand.”
There was another pause, then finally, he stepped back.
Just like that.
The heat disappeared, the space returned and the spell loosened its grip.
I exhaled, shaky, relieved, and disappointed all at once.
Damien straightened, his expression shifting back into something composed, and controlled.
“You’re overwhelmed,” he said. “And you’re still recovering.”
He turned away slightly, giving me space, and I hadn’t realized how badly I needed it until it was there.
“Get some rest,” he added. “Clear your head.”
I nodded again, silently.
As he walked past me, his voice reached me once more, calm but laced with something that made my stomach flip all over again.
“And Moonlight?”
I looked up.
He glanced at me over his shoulder.
“How well are you anticipating our wedding?” he asked quietly. “It is coming up in just a few days.”
Then he walked away.
And I stood there with my heart pounding, knowing deep down that nothing about this was going to be simple ever again.