Monaco, Night
Lucia's hand tightened around the photo until her knuckles hurt. She had walked through the city for hours after leaving Elise. The sky had turned dark, but the image of the body near the sea wall didn't fade. It burned behind her eyes like a scar she didn't ask for.
She reached the Vexley estate long after the lights had dimmed. The guards at the gate didn't question her. They never did. She was already part of their cage.
When she opened the door to her room, Damien was there. He sat in the armchair near her window, still in his black suit, his tie loose. The way he looked at her made it clear he had been waiting.
"You followed me," she said flatly.
"I didn't have to," he answered. "I knew where you'd go."
She shut the door behind her. "Then you also know why I'm here."
His eyes dropped to her hand. The photo was crushed in her grip. His jaw tightened. "Elise."
"She showed me the truth," Lucia said, her voice low. "The kind you don't say out loud."
Damien stood slowly. "You don't know the full story."
"I know enough." Her throat burned, but she didn't waver. "You were there. Someone died. And you lied to me."
"I never promised you the truth."
She laughed once, but it wasn't soft. "No. You just smiled and let me think I was safe."
Damien took a step closer. Lucia didn't move. Their anger filled the space between them like smoke.
"It's not what you think," he said.
"Then tell me," She snapped. "For once in your life, just say it."
His hand brushed his hair back. He looked tired, not weak, like a man who had lived with this for too long. "That night wasn't planned. It wasn't clean. It was blood and silence. And it didn't end when the body hit the ground."
Lucia stared at him. "Who died?"
His silence answered everything.
Something broke inside her. The girl who once stood quietly at her mother's side was gone.
"You're not just cold," she whispered. "You're dangerous."
"Lucia"
"Don't." Her voice was sharp. "Don't say my name like you care."
His chest rose and fell, harder now. "I didn't choose this."
"Neither did I."
She tried to walk past him, but he caught her wrist. Not rough. Just enough to stop her. Her pulse thudded under his fingers. Their eyes locked.
"Let go," she said.
He didn't. "You can hate me. You probably should. But don't pretend you don't feel what's happening between us."
Lucia's heart raced. She hated that he was right. She hated how close they were.
"You think attraction fixes lies?" she said.
"No," Damien whispered. "But lies don't make it disappear either."
He stepped closer. Their faces were inches apart. The air between them was warm and sharp at the same time. Lucia could feel every beat of her heart against his silence.
"I should hate you," she whispered.
"Then hate me," he said. "But don't lie to yourself."
Her hand fell from the crushed photo. It hit the floor like a warning neither of them heard.
She reached for him. Or maybe he reached first. It didn't matter.
The two started kissing passionately. Lucia's mouth crashed into Damien's with a hunger that had been building for too long. The taste of anger and desire mingled on her tongue, and she drank him in like a woman starved. Damien's hands gripped her waist, pulling her body flush against his, the heat of his skin searing through their clothes.
Her fingers tangled in his hair, yanking hard as she deepened the kiss, biting his lip until he growled against her mouth. The sound sent a shiver down her spine, a primal response to the raw power she could feel coiled beneath his polished exterior.
Damien's hands slid down, cupping her ass and lifting her effortlessly. Lucia wrapped her legs around his waist, grinding against the hard length she could feel pressing against his zipper. He pinned her against the wall, the cold surface a stark contrast to the inferno burning between them.
Lucia tore at his shirt, buttons scattering across the floor as she revealed the sculpted chest beneath. She raked her nails down his abs, feeling him shudder, before she leaned in to suck at the sensitive skin of his neck, leaving a trail of bruises that would linger long after dawn.
Damien's fingers found the zipper of her dress, peeling it down with deliberate slowness that made her whimper with impatience. The fabric pooled at her feet, leaving her in nothing but lace panties and the furious need coursing through her veins.
He stepped back, eyes dark as he drank in the sight of her. Lucia reveled in the hunger she saw mirrored there, a reflection of the chaos raging inside her. She was a storm, and he was the lightning, dangerous, exhilarating, impossible to resist.
"You're fucking perfect," he growled, the words rough with desire.
Lucia didn't answer. Instead, she reached behind her, unclasping her bra and letting it fall. Damien's eyes locked onto her breasts, full and aching for his touch. She pinched her own nipple, arching into the sensation, watching as his control frayed further.
"Fuck," he muttered, before closing the distance between them.
His mouth was hot and demanding, tongue swirling around her pebbled peaks before sucking hard, drawing a cry from her lips. She fisted his hair, guiding him to the neglected side, gasping as his teeth grazed sensitive skin.
Lucia's hand slid between them, palming the bulge in his pants. Damien's breath hitched, hips bucking into her touch. She unfastened his belt with practiced speed, shoving his pants down just enough to free his cock.
It pulsed in her hand, thick and hard, the skin like velvet over steel. She stroked him slowly, thumb brushing pre-cum from the tip, using it to ease her way as she worked him from base to crown.
"Christ, Lucia," Damien gritted out, fingers digging into her hips. "You keep that up and this'll be over before it starts."
She smirked, squeezing tighter. "Maybe I want to watch you come undone."
With a growl, he spun them around, laying her back on the bed. Lucia's breath caught as he peeled her panties down her legs, tossing them aside before spreading her thighs wide. The cool air brushed over her exposed pussy, already slick with need.
Damien stared at her, a wolf sizing up its prey. "You're soaked for me."
"Maybe I am," she challenged. "What are you going to do about it?"
He didn't answer with words. Instead, he dropped to his knees, shoulders pressing her thighs apart as he buried his face between her legs.
Lucia's back arched off the bed at the first touch of his tongue. He licked her in long, deliberate strokes, parting her folds before focusing on her clit. The sensation was electric, sending shocks of pleasure up her spine.
She gripped the sheets, trying to anchor herself as Damien devoured her. His fingers joined the fray, pushing into her tight heat as his tongue continued its relentless assault. Lucia's hips rolled against him, chasing the pleasure building inside her.
"That's it," he murmured against her core. "Come for me, Lucia. Let me taste you."
His words, combined with the added pressure of his thumb circling her clit, sent her tumbling over the edge. Her orgasm hit like a tidal wave, ripping through her with enough force to steal her breath. Damien held her through it, lapping at her juices as she rode out the last waves of pleasure.
Before she could recover, he was rising, the predatory look in his eyes making it clear he wasn't done with her. Lucia's heart raced, her body still humming from her climax. She watched as Damien positioned himself on her properly and penetrated her with his hard cock. This was, at the moment, the best feeling as he kept thrusting her slowly while kissing her and touching her. The moment was so intense that Lucia pushed him off and sat on him rather and started riding him smoothly, and that was when he lost control. Damien was moaning as he was close to Cumming, but Lucia was not slowing down, keeping the exact motion. Damian released his cum without even knowing because he was so much in his feelings, while both were moaning crazily. Lucia was filled with lots of cum that when she got off Damien, all her thighs were wet with cum, either from herself or him, or both
When it was over, the room was quiet. Too quiet. Lucia sat at the edge of the bed, breathing fast, her skin still hot from everything she didn't want to feel.
Damien stood by the window, his back to her. He didn't speak. He didn't touch her. He knew this wasn't love. It was a war with soft hands.
Lucia stared at the floor. She hated him. She wanted him. She hated herself for wanting him.
"Don't follow me again," she said softly.
He turned his head slightly. "Then don't run."
She stood and picked up the photo from the floor. "This isn't over."
"I know," Damien replied.
She walked out and closed the door without looking back. Her heartbeat didn't calm down for a long time.