Page 54 of My Masked Savior
“Bad enough that I’m tolerating Captain Overbearing here.”
I watch Morgan lean forward to catch something Basia says, her dark eyes bright with genuine interest. She nods, asks a follow-up question that makes Basia laugh. The sound wraps around the table, pulling everyone in.
This. This is what I wanted without knowing I wanted it.
Morgan fits here. Between the chaos of Ethan and Barbara’s bickering, Caleb’s gruff protectiveness, Killian and Emily’s easy affection—she belongs. No forcing it, no awkward silences. She just... settles into the rhythm like she’s always been part of my world.
Emily refills Morgan’s wine glass, saying something about how they should get lunch sometime. Morgan agrees, her smile unguarded in a way I’ve never seen before. Not even with me.
My chest tightens.
I slide my hand onto her thigh under the table, fingers tracing slow circles against the fabric of her dress. She falters mid-sentence, a slight hitch in her breath. The flush starts at her collarbone, spreading upward across that beautiful, dark caramel skin.
“You okay?” Emily asks.
“Fine,” Morgan manages, her voice steadier than I expected. “Just—warm in here.”
I press my fingers a fraction higher, watching the way her jaw tenses. She reaches for her water glass with carefully controlled movements, not looking at me.
Basia launches into another story about her stalker, something about flowers delivered to her work. Caleb’s expression darkens, his questions clipped. Morgan listens, contributes a comment about workplace security protocols, all while that blush deepens across her cheeks.
Killian catches my eye from across the table, his smirk knowing. I don’t care. Let him notice. Everyone here already knows I’m gone for her.
What they don’t know is how deep it runs. How I’d burn the world down if it meant keeping her exactly like this—safe, laughing, surrounded by people who’d protect her the same as I would.
Morgan shifts in her seat, her hand dropping below the table to catch my wrist. She doesn’t push me away, simply holds on, her thumb brushing against my pulse point.
I lean closer, my lips brushing the shell of her ear. The conversation around us fades to white noise.
“You have no idea what you do to me,” I murmur, keeping my voice low enough that only she hears. “Sitting here with my hand on your thigh, watching you smile at my friends like you’ve always belonged in my life. Like youwere made specifically to fill every empty space I didn’t know existed.”
Her breath catches. I feel it more than hear it.
“I’ve spent years thinking I understood control,” I continue, my thumb tracing lazy patterns against her skin. “Discipline. Order. Then you walked into my world and shattered every carefully constructed wall I built. You’re the chaos I never knew I needed, princess. The only beautiful thing in a life that’s been stained with blood and darkness.”
Morgan’s fingers tighten around my wrist.
“I want to take you home right now,” I breathe against her neck, “lay you out on my bed and worship every inch of that perfect body until you forget your own name. Want to hear you scream mine instead while I make you come so hard you see stars. Want to fill you so completely there’s no question who you belong to.”
She shifts in her seat, a small movement that betrays how affected she is.
“But more than that,” I press a soft kiss just below her ear, “I want this. You here, laughing with Emily and Barbara. My brothers are accepting you without question because they see what I see—that you’re extraordinary. That you’re mine in every way that matters.”
“Damien,” she whispers, my name barely audible.
Her dark eyes are wide, glassy with emotion.
“And tonight,” I add, my voice dropping to something darker, “when we get home, I’m going to show you exactly how deep that love goes.”
Morgan turns her head, and her lips find mine before I can process the movement. The kiss starts soft but deepens fast, her hand sliding up to cup my jaw. I taste wine on her tongue, feel the slight tremor in her fingers.
Heat floods through me. I angle my head, takingcontrol of the kiss, swallowing the small sound she makes. Her mouth opens for me, yielding in that way that drives me wild.
“Get a room,” Ethan calls out.
I pull back just enough to break contact, keeping my forehead pressed to Morgan’s. Her eyes stay closed for a beat, her breathing unsteady.
“I love you,” she whispers.
