Page 46 of Damian
“Promise me one thing, Morgan.” Damian’s voice was close enough to cut through the night. “No more solo moves.”
“I promise.” The word tasted like both iron and relief. I wrapped Ruby tighter and put the recorder in the bottom drawer, the one I never used. I slid the bolt on the bedroom door and stood in the dark, listening for the sounds of men coming down a country road.
Outside, the van idled on, its shape a dark question against the gravel. Inside, my heart thudded loud enough to drown the motor. I had told him. I had told the truth.
And now I waited—bare and trembling and a little less alone—while the team I’d dragged into this life pulled themselves together and came for me.
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Damian
Since we weren’t far from the cottage, we were there in no time. We grabbed the men in the van. Gage and Oliver had the men from the van under wraps, Cyclone was digging through their gear, and I’d taken one last walk of the perimeter myself before heading inside. I could feel the fear.
Ruby hovered in the hall, arms crossed, chin tilted just high enough to look braver than she felt. Sixteen going on twenty, and sharp enough to know more than Morgan wanted her to.
“You’re not leaving us here, right?” she asked.
“No.” My voice was steady. “But you’re going to do exactly what your sister tells you tonight. That means staying in your room, door locked, no arguments.”
Her eyes flicked to Morgan, then back to me. She nodded once. “Fine.”
When she was gone, I turned toward Morgan. She leaned against the wall, her arms wrapped tight like she was holding herself together.
“You shouldn’t have had to—” I started.
“Don’t.” Her voice cracked, but she lifted her chin. “Don’t tell me I shouldn’t have. I couldn’t sit here doing nothing, Damian.”
I stepped closer, close enough to see the way her pulse thudded at her throat. My voice came out rough. “Then tell me this—what do you need right now?”
Her answer was a breath against my mouth. “You.”
That single word unraveled every restraint I’d been holding. The space between us disappeared as I cupped her face and kissed her, pouring in everything I’d kept locked down since the day we met. It wasn’t reckless—it was deliberate, a choice. My tongue slid against hers, coaxing, claiming, until she whimpered into me and fisted her hands in my shirt.
When she broke away, her eyes shimmered, fierce even through the haze of desire. “Not here,” she whispered, her lips brushing mine. “Not with Ruby down the hall, not with the team walking in and out.”
She tugged me toward her bedroom, urgency in every step. I followed, my body strung tight, pulse hammering like it knew what waited on the other side of that door.
The world fell away as the door clicked shut. The team outside, Ruby safe, the night pressing heavy on the walls—none of it mattered. She pressed against me, soft curves to hard muscle, and I lifted her, backing her against the door as her legs wrapped around my waist. Her gasp broke into my name, a sound that burned straight through me.
I laid her down on the bed, her hair fanning over the pillow like something out of a dream. My hands roamed over warm skin, tugging at fabric until nothing separated us. Every kiss deepened, every touch bared more of what we both craved. Her body arched into mine, heat meeting heat, and when I finally slid into her, the world outside ceased to exist.
Her nails bit into my shoulders, her voice catching on my name with every thrust. We moved together, urgent, desperate, until it was no longer about the danger outside or the secrets between us—only the fierce, unbreakable need to belong to each other, completely.
61
Morgan
For days, fear had lived under my skin. Tonight, it burned away.
Damian’s hands were steady when mine shook, his mouth patient when I was desperate. We moved together in the dim light of my room, careful at first — then not careful at all. The weight of everything we hadn’t said poured out in touches, in kisses, in the way he held me like he was afraid I might vanish if he let go.
It wasn’t just heat. It was relief, release, the fragile miracle of being alive and together when we shouldn’t be.
When it was over, I lay curled against him, listening to the hard, even beat of his heart. He pressed his lips to my hair and whispered, “We’re moving you both tomorrow. Too many eyes on this place.”
I knew he was right. But for one night, with his arms around me, I let myself believe we could be untouchable.
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