Chapter 7
LUCY
T he alarm pierces through the peace, turning the cabin into hell. One second, I’m kissing Damien by the fire, drowning in promises of forever, and the next, I’m wondering if I’m about to die.
The soldier in Damien takes over instantly. He’s on his feet with a gun in his hand before I even process what’s happening or where the gun came from. He shifts into combat mode with terrifying speed and efficiency.
“Lucy!” The commanding tone of his voice cuts through my thoughts. “Get in your room, away from the windows. Lock your door. Now!”
Terror floods my system. This is real. This is happening. The men who want me dead have found us. I’m going to die.
I run to my room on unsteady legs and slam the door behind me. My hands are shaking wildly as I turn lock the deadbolts, fear consuming me. Through the door, I hear Damien moving around downstairs, but I have no idea what’s happening or if I’ll ever see him again.
I sink onto the bed, curling up tightly as my mind spirals.
The threatening letters flash through my memory in vivid detail—the specific, horrific things they promised to do to me before they killed me.
The threats to my retired parents in Arizona.
Things I’ve let myself forget this week but that now come roaring back with terrifying clarity and urgency.
Every second feels like an hour. When the alarm stops abruptly, my ears keep ringing in the sudden silence. I strain to hear what’s happening, but there’s only the muffled sounds of Damien downstairs and my ragged breathing.
Then, finally, a soft knock on my door.
“Lucy? Everything’s clear. It was a malfunction—a sensor got knocked offline.”
I don’t answer immediately. I’m not convinced everything is okay.
“We’re safe. It was a false alarm.”
His voice is different now, gentler, more like the man who held me by the fire. But I still can’t move.
“Lucy?” Damien’s voice is urgent now, and I hear his palm hit the door. “Lucy, answer me.”
“I’m here,” I force myself to call out.
“Can you unlock the door for me?” He asks, and I can hear the strained patience in his voice.
My hands shake as I unlock the deadbolts. When I open the door, I can’t hide my terror.
His face softens immediately. “Jesus, Lucy. It’s okay. It was a false alarm.”
He steps forward and pulls me into his arms without hesitation. I melt against him instantly, pressing my face to his chest, breathing in his scent. He’s solid and warm and alive, and the terror wracking my body since the alarm eases slightly.
“Hey,” he murmurs into my hair. “You’re safe. I’ve got you.”
But I can’t stop shaking. The adrenaline crash is hitting me hard, leaving me raw and vulnerable in a way that goes beyond this scare.
“I keep thinking about what they said they’d do to me,” I whisper against his shirt. “In the letters. The specific things. I can’t get them out of my head. They threatened my parents!”
His arms tighten around me. “They’re not going to touch you. I promise. We can have people check on your parents, too.”
“I need you,” I say, pressing my body against his.
I’m still trembling from fear, but underneath it, my body has a desperate urge to feel alive after being so scared.
His skin is warm through the thin cotton of his t-shirt. Being this close to him eases my fear, but it’s replaced by something deeper, more complex.
“You’ll be okay,” he murmurs, his lips close to my temple. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“Damien,” I whisper, not even sure what I’m asking for.
“I know,” he says quietly. “I feel it, too.”
His hand comes up to cup my face, thumb brushing my cheekbone. The gentle touch sends fire racing through my veins.
“We almost lost this,” I say, my voice breaking slightly. “When that alarm went off, all I could think about was that I might never see you again. Never get to tell you—”
“Tell me what?”
“That I love you.” The words spill out before I can stop them. “I never stopped loving you, and I almost lost the chance to say it.”
His eyes close for a moment, like the words physically impact him. When he opens them again, they’re blazing with emotion. “Lucy—”
“I need you,” I say, pulling him to my bed. “I need to feel alive. I need to feel you.”
His control snaps. He rolls me beneath him, framing my face with his hands as he captures my mouth in a kiss that’s desperate and tender. I kiss him back with everything I have, pouring all my fear and love and need into the connection between us.
“I love you, too,” he breathes against my lips. “God, Lucy, I’ve never stopped loving you.”
His hands slide under the t-shirt I’m wearing, and I arch into his touch as he lifts it over my head. When his mouth finds my breast, I cry out, my fingers tangling in his hair.
This is different from the hot springs. This is less frantic, more emotional.
Damien’s hands roam my body, electrifying every nerve ending with desire. When I reach for the waistband of his boxer briefs, he helps me push them down. I move to straddle him, sliding the lace of my panties to the side and rubbing my aching core against his cock.
I slide down his cock fast, locking my eyes with his. My body moves fast, my breasts bouncing as I ride his cock, taking him deep. This isn’t tender love; it’s a frantic, primal, life-affirming connection that only we have.
Damien reaches up and pulls me down so that we’re chest to chest. He thrusts up into me, moaning my name in my ear as my orgasm surges through me with alarming speed.
I explode in a pleasure that reminds me I’m alive and will never, ever let Damien go again.
He holds my hips as he thrusts into me fast and hard, groaning as his body shakes with his climax.
Afterward, we lie tangled together, hearts racing, skin slick with sweat. He pulls the covers over us and gathers me close, pressing soft kisses to my hair.
“No matter what happens,” he whispers as we lie face-to-face, “I want you to know that this, right here, right now, is everything I’ve ever wanted. And I will fight to the death to keep you.”