11. Dani
11
DANI
MY H.O.E PHASE
X eno collapses on the bed, bringing me down with him. My back is pressed to his front. The gentle whir of the ceiling fan mixes with our settling breaths. Xeno's warmth radiates against my back, his heartbeat a steady rhythm I can feel through my shoulder blades. The faint scent of his sandalwood cologne mingles with the crisp cotton of freshly laundered sheets.
“I like you, Dani,” he whispers, his breath tickling the shell of my ear, carrying the slight raspiness of someone who's been holding back strong emotions.
“Same,” I manage, though the word feels inadequate for the tide of feelings threatening to overflow. With Xeno, I've discovered something I never thought possible - the freedom to be both strong and vulnerable. He sees past my carefully constructed walls, past the warrior I've had to become, to the woman beneath who yearns for genuine connection. The humiliation and degradation I’ve felt in the past are non-existent between us. With him, my surrender is rewarded with tender words and slow caresses. This is his true power over me. Oscar hurt me, but Xeno Voss could break me.
“Huh,” he says.
My head is pillowed on his chest. I want to see his face to gather some insight into what he’s thinking. I’m happier than I can ever remember. Sharing my body, and my bed, the man I’ve chosen sees me not as a piece of property but as a priceless treasure. Not that Xeno has used those exact words, but I know how he makes me feel—safe and alive. I’m in my H.O.E phase. Is he?
I try to angle my face up, but the movement pulls at the stitches between my neck and left shoulder. Pain slices down my arm, and I hiss at the sudden discomfort. “Ouch.”
Xeno sits up, pressing his back against my low headboard. He adjusts my limbs until I am practically seated in his lap, his cock resting, half-awake, on my thigh.
“Better?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I sigh, sinking back into his warmth. It’s a lie. Partial. Physically, I’m more than okay, but my thoughts are riotous. Fucking was easy, but this—afterwards had my craving things a woman like me shouldn’t, couldn’t want. I lived a simplistic life—do the job, keep fit, keep a safe distance from everyone.
“You’re shaking,” he observes, his large hand moving to warm my arm. The calluses on his palm tell their own story of survival, of fighting back. ”What’s up with you?”
Turning my head into his chest, I bury my face and feelings. “I’m good.”
“I know.” His chuckle reverberates through me, a sound full of affection that makes my eyes sting. “That’s why I’m keeping you. You’re mine.”
The kiss he places on my head is feather-light, but it lands like an anchor, keeping me from drifting away into the darkness of my past. I want to deserve this tenderness. Want to be worthy of the way he looks at me - like I'm something precious rather than something broken.
“I want to give you something.” His words cut through the silence. Tearing a hole in the shield, I’m slowly rebuilding as the minutes tick by.
“You don’t have to.”
He ignores that and gently lifts my left arm, careful not to raise it too high. I soften at his attention to detail that he won’t hurt me to get what he wants. I watch as he tugs his signet ring, the one with the raised XV gold initials, and he slides the ring on my middle finger.
I jerk up. Shaking my head vehemently. He thinks he knows what he’s getting with me. He doesn’t. And, for once in this new life I’ve created the walls close in on me. “Take it back,” I snap.
Something like pain flashes in his dark eyes. “No.”
“You shouldn’t.”
“Yet, I did. Wear it or don’t. But nothing changes. It’s yours, and you are mine,” he growls.
Why is this happening? I drop my head, staring at my hand. The weight of his signet ring on my finger feels foreign - both a promise and a warning. The raised XV catches the light from the windows, and I watch it glint as my hand trembles. The last ring I wore came with chains disguised as vows. But Xeno's touch has only ever meant freedom. He needs to know. He deserves to hear the truth of my past from me. I have a choice to make. Let him love me based on a lie. Or lose him by sharing my truth.
“I killed the first man who put his ring on my finger.” My voice is steady, daring him to condemn me. I’m not sorry Oscar is dead, but I’m terrified that I’ll see in Xeno’s eyes how irredeemable I am.
No worth.
No value.
No one I’ve loved, trusted, loved me enough to fight for me. My father. My mother. Even my sorry-ass husband reveled in fighting me. There was no love. For what I’ve done, my crimes, maybe I don’t deserve a second chance at love, but—I want his. Xeno eyes bore into mine. I expect to see revulsion in his eyes. Instead, I find understanding tinged with protective fury.
“I for damn sure, don’t want to piss you off. What the fuck did he do?” Did I hear him right? I try to bite back a laugh and fail.
“Oscar was an evil prick. He kidnapped me from my home in New Orleans on my sixteenth birthday,” I confess. More laughter bubbles up inside me. When Xeno lifts me up, turning me to face him, I go willingly. I love how small and delicate he makes me feel. How he handles me without asking for consent because he knows he has my complete trust, I think it pleases him.
“Fucker,” he hisses. “Lucky, my sexy bitch spared him ever meeting my sword. Tell me the rest. And it’s not to judge your decisions, ma cherie. I want to know you, want more time with you. I—” he paused. “I want to love you. My parents were fucked up. The first thing I did when I was strong enough to defend myself against my father was to smash his fists with a hammer. Now, he hits no one. Whatever you did to survive, it was the best choice because we’re here. So tell me all your secrets, ma cherie…’Cause for you I’ll dig graves and drop the bodies.”
He waits, and sincerity shines back at me through his eyes. His response - offering to dig graves and drop bodies - should terrify me. Instead, it feels like absolution.
This is the first time I tell anyone about Oscar, about the ring that came before. My five years in hell. A decade ago, when I arrived in D.C. covered in bruises, Silvio knew better than to ask. I talk well into the night about the Hernandez-Dominguez family, my parents, my father’s business, my ambitions to be his second in command, the meal that saved my life, the stuff I took from the safe, how my family home, mom’s bake shop had been sold a few months after I was taken. My family had vanished. His expression darkens as I divulge more of my past. When I mention Friend, and the vile things Oscar did to me with his pet reptile, Xeno holds me. So, this is what sharing, having a partner who gives a shit, feels like? When I’m done, he gestures to the ring on my finger.
“You keeping it?”
“Yes,” I swallow, understanding his real question. Am I throwing him away, refusing his commitment to us? No, I’m not. I’m in too deep. I want to be his, so tell him the only way I know how. “People like us break things,” I whisper. “Don’t break me, Xeno.”
He captures my chin, forcing me to meet his eyes. The intensity there steals my breath. I want to hide my shame, my guilt. He won’t allow it.
“You and me, we don’t break, Dani. We destroy what is broken. Some monsters have to be slaughtered.” His grin is cruel and sexy, and I love it. “You sure you want me?”
In his eyes, I see my past reframed - not as shameful secrets that make me unworthy of love, but as proof of my strength, my will to survive. Maybe that's what real love is - someone who looks at your darkest truths and shows you the light within them. “Ab-sol-lutely-fucking-positive,” I declare, “you’re the man I can’t help but want.”
As he pushes his dick inside me, his delicious girth stretching my sore pussy, he whispers. “Remember, you wanted me to ruin you.”
And our H.O.E phase continues in utter lunchtime fucking bliss until the day I return to the office.