Page 108 of Emperor of Lust

“Fuck yeah,” I answer immediately, laughing and not caring how eager I sound. “Damian, we’ve barely left this place for three weeks. And we’veneverhad a real date.”

“I mean, there was that dinner at Miyamoto’s house…”

I roll my eyes. “How about a date thatdoesn’tinvolve ninja assassins jumping out of the shadows.”

Damian grins a boyish smile that’s rare for him. “Okay,” he says, shaking his head. “We’ll go out. But first, there’s something very important we need to do.”

I grin as he starts to prowl across the bed toward me.

“Oh?” I giggle. “What’s that?”

The only answer I get is him flipping me over, pinning me to the bed as he shoves my thighs apart and kissing his way between them from behind.

I mean…greatanswer.

Later that night,after an amazingomakasedinner, we find ourselves stepping past the velvet rope of a super trendy, neon-lit nightclub in Roppongi.

Thudding club music pulses in the air, vibrating through my veins, and I feel like I’ve stepped into another dimension. It’s packed, the bassline thudding and moving the sea of gyrating dancers in a hypnotic rhythm.

It’s chaotic, but with Damian’s hand firmly around my waist, I feel grounded. Protected.

And then we’re on the dance floor, surrounded by people but somehow in a bubble of our own. Damian moves with unexpected natural ease, his body in perfect time with mine as we sway, the beat pulsing between us. My pulse races, every move syncing with his as we lock eyes. I can’t look away.

Okay, who knew. Damian canseriouslydance.

The club music switches from a mix of your average bass-heavy club beats to something akin to salsa or a tango. I shriek as he grabs me, effortlessly spinning and dipping me, reeling me in close and then spinning me away.

I stop for a second, staring at him in disbelief. “The fuck?” I ask, breathless, a grin stretching across my face as I take in his effortless moves. “You can seriously dance.Howis that possible?”

He smirks as he pulls me close. “Lessons.”

I arch a brow, smiling softly. “Your parents?” I say.

He chuckles and shakes his head. “Kir,” he says with amusement. “Apparently, he didn’t want the heir to embarrasshimself in public. Said it was ‘good for business’ for me to be able to dance.”

I shake my head, laughing, and wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him even closer. His hands drop to my waist, holding me steady, and for a second, it’s just us, moving together like this is what we’ve been doing forever.

The moment stretches out as I look up at him, something stirring deep in my chest. He’s watching me with an intensity that sends shivers down my spine, a kind of devotion I’ve never seen directed at me before.

In that moment, something inside me clicks into place again: a realization I’ve been feeling for a long time but have always been scared to admit, even to myself.

I’m really in love with him. Hopelessly.

The truth settles over me, thrilling and terrifying. I don’t know when it happened, but it’s as sure as the ground beneath my feet.

He leans in, his mouth close to my ear. “Another round of drinks?”

“Sure,” I breathe, feeling heat rush to my cheeks as I shake my thoughts away. I step back, almost dizzy, desperate for a moment to collect myself.

“What do you want?”

I shake my head. “It’s okay. I’ll go.” As I turn to leave, the words slip out before I can stop them. “Be right back. Love you.”

I freeze. The words hang in the air like a live wire. The enormity of what I just said slams into me like a charging bull. I don’t even dare look at him, afraid of what I’ll see in his eyes. Paniccourses through me, and I do the only thing I can think of—I whirl around, desperate to bolt before I make things even worse.

But before I can get more than a step away, I feel his hand wrap around my arm, pulling me back. I spin, my heart in my throat, and find myself falling into his chest, face-to-face with him, his eyes lancing into mine.

“Damian, I?—”

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