Chapter Six
Rose
The mouthwatering scent of bacon and toast wafts into my nostrils, pulling me awake. My hands instinctively roam over to my side as I slowly blink my eyes open, but I come up empty. From the coolness of the sheets, it seems Damien has been out of the bed for a while.
Happiness blooms inside me at the thought of him. The more time I spend with him, the more my feelings for him grow. He seems so different from the man I met a few days ago…
Outwardly, he appears tough as nails, but with me he’s soft and sensitive. It’s as if he’s not used to being this way, and it’s thrilling. I enjoy being around him. I don’t have to hide my true thoughts or nature. I feel truly alive, and I haven’t felt that way since I was younger and my dad was still alive. It’s like I’ve finally received a reward for all the hardships I went through.
My stomach rumbles, and the sensation snaps me out of my daydream. I roll out of the bed and make a beeline for Damien’s closet. Yesterday, he told me to wear his clothes until mine are delivered. I pull out a pair of his shorts and a sweatshirt, smiling as I remember how we spent the rest of the day yesterday.
After we ordered breakfast and filled our stomachs, Damien gave me a tour of the huge apartment, and then he suggested we go out for lunch. I pointed out that I had nothing to wear and he pulled out his phone with a cheeky smile. We spent hours shopping online, Damien suggesting ridiculously scandalous lingerie while I laughed and blushed like a schoolgirl. Somehow, we ended up tangled in each other’s arms, kissing like our lives depended on it, plans for lunch long forgotten.
I moan softly at the ache building up in my core at the memories. I dress quickly, resisting the urge to stay in the closet and just drown in the amazing scent of him. My heart bubbles with excitement as I hurry down the long hallway.
At this point, I don’t care what our relationship is, I’m just going to go with my heart.
Strong, mouthwatering scents pull me along until I’m standing at the entrance to the kitchen, watching Damien whisk some eggs in a bowl.
He turns just in time to see me and smiles softly. “Good morning, princess,” he says, gently setting the bowl on the kitchen island to walk toward me.
I take in his wide, welcoming smile and ruggedly handsome features. There’s an innate rawness and intensity in his gait. It reminds me of a dangerous panther stalking its prey. My sex clenches at the thought and I shiver slightly at the idea of being his prey. I don’t mind it at all.
“Good morning,” I breathe out, smiling softly as he stops in front of me.
He cups my cheek and presses a lingering kiss on my forehead. “I’m making us breakfast. Come,” he orders in a low tone, pulling me along. His touch is gentle yet firm. Once at the kitchen island, he gently lifts me and places me on the counter, his hands grazing the sensitive flesh under my breasts.
I inhale softly at the contact and his dark gaze traps mine as he slowly closes the space between us. My stomach rumbles again, breaking the moment, and he winces and shakes his head.
“I can’t seem to control myself around you. Sorry about that, princess.” He presses a chaste kiss to the corner of my lips, then returns to making breakfast.
“Me too,” I say shyly.
“Do you want some coffee before breakfast is done?” he asks.
“Yes, please.”
I watch him pour me a cup and add some milk and sugar. “I was going to wake you up once I’m done cooking,” he says as he offers me the mug.
“I’m glad I woke earlier then, because I like what I see,” I tease, then take a sip of the coffee, moaning softly at the rich, creamy taste.
Just the way I like it.
My gaze returns to Damien as he deftly chops veggies. To his left is a platter of toast and bacon, perfectly cooked and inviting. I watch him silently for a while, taking in the steady movements of his hands and the way his muscles bulge sexily. He should look out of place here, but he doesn’t, as if he’s done this many times.
“I can’t believe you know how to cook,” I blurt, unable to hold in my thoughts.
Damien looks up and chuckles at my shocked expression. “Why do you say that, princess?” he asks.
I put down my coffee and shrug. “You just don’t seem like the type,” I reply, then giggle as he grabs his chest in mock shock.
“Shots fired, baby,” he gasps, coming to stand between my legs, grabbing my waist. “What do you think a man who cooks looks like?” he asks with an arched brow and a wide grin.
I giggle softly and pointedly eye him. “I don’t know, but not like you.”
Damien laughs and hugs me close, leaning in to seize my lips in a slow, lingering kiss that ends as quickly as it started. He places a firm kiss at the corner of my mouth before letting go, leaving me a needy mess. My gaze follows him as he washes the pan and heats it up. His muscles strain and flex beneath his rolled-up sleeves, heightening the growing need inside me.
“I’ll have you know that I’ve been cooking since I could remember,” he says, then looks up to hold my gaze before he turns back to frying the eggs. “I had a pretty normal childhood. My parents loved each other and were the best parents any child could ask for. My dad was in the army for most of his life, until he died in the war.”
My arousal dies down at his words. “Oh, Damien. I’m so sorry,” I exclaim softly, feeling a wave of sympathy at his loss.
“Thank you, princess,” he replies. “It was a long time ago. My mom and Tessa, my older sister, enjoy cooking. They taught me after we lost my dad and I needed to help my sister whenever mom was at work. Then it became a family tradition to cook together on weekends until I turned eighteen and joined the army. After I left the army and got my license as a private investigator, I haven’t cooked for anyone else except my mom and sister, until now,” he says simply.
I smile at him, feeling special, but I can’t help the pang of loss I feel at the difference in our backgrounds. “What about your mom and sister? Do they live close?” I ask, hoping to shift attention away from sad thoughts.
Damien looks up after pouring out the scrambled eggs from the pan. He shoots me a soft smile and I swoon inwardly at the way it transforms his face. “They live in Chicago. Tessa is married with two boys, and my mom enjoys being a grandma,” he says absentmindedly as he plates our food.
“What about you? Tell me about your childhood.”
I stiffen slightly at the question, and Damien looks up just in time to see my unease. He closes the space between us and settles his hands on my waist. “Are you okay? If you don’t want to talk about it, we can talk about something else,” he assures, soothingly rubbing his hands on my sides.
His concern pushes away the depressing thoughts that invade my mind. He makes it hard for me to wallow in my memories. “No. I’m fine. I was just taken aback by the question. I’m okay. Please go ahead with breakfast,” I urge.
“Okay, baby. Just know that you don’t have to say anything,” he says, and goes back to plating the food.
“I know,” I reply, then sigh softly. “I was just a bit sad hearing how wonderful it was for you growing up. My childhood was kind of the opposite. My parents loved each other too, but I think they loved growing their fortune more. I remember waiting up with my nanny for my parents to come back from work. Sometimes I got to see them, but most times I would fall asleep before they could arrive. They weren’t bad parents, they were just…busy.”
I bite my lip, my heart hurting at the memories. “When I turned six, Daddy traveled for a meeting and his plane crashed. He died, and it felt like my mom just…withered. She threw herself into work, and hardly had time for me. When my mom met Jared, I could tell he made her happier…at first. I remember when she introduced me to him and he asked me if he could marry my mom.”
I chuckle in disbelief at the thought and turn to look at Damien, whose attention hasn’t wavered from mine. Anger and irritation swirl in his dark, intense gaze and for some reason, it grounds me. “I knew something was wrong about him, but I didn’t want to disappoint my mom. Maybe I should have said something.”
Damien shifts closer until his warmth cloaks me, reminding me that Jared could never find me. “You were a kid, princess. It wasn’t your decision to make anyway,” he says gruffly, his gaze tender and immovable.
“You’re right, it wasn’t. Still, I wonder if my mom would have married him if I’d rejected him. I don’t think I could have, though. Seeing my mom happy and knowing he was the reason was enough for me to accept him.”
I tell Damien how Jared gradually made me feel unsafe in my home, turning me into a shell of myself. And I watch the growing anger and cold rage in his eyes at every word.
When I’m done, he closes his eyes and inhales deeply until the bulk of his rage subsides. Then he opens his eyes and meets my gaze. “You know, that asshole could be dead by morning,” he says, his voice a soft, menacing growl. “You only have to say the word.”
I sigh, allowing a sad smile. “I don’t want him dead.”
Damien leans over, touches his forehead to mine, and holds my waist. “You’re awfully kind, princess,” he says, and his warm breath fans over my lips. “But I’m not sure I can extend such grace.”
I frown. I’ve always known Damien isn’t a simple person, given the circumstances of how we met, but still I don’t want him involved with Jared. So, I close my mouth over his in a distractingly slow, deep kiss. I release his lips and whisper, “Let’s eat breakfast before it gets cold.”
Damien scoffs, blinking at me like I’ve suddenly grown a second head. “You expect me to eat after that ?” he growls.
“Then I’ll eat for us both,” I tease, giving in to the urge to kiss his brows.
Damien chuckles and the sound fills me with warmth. I watch his eyes crinkle at the corners, and I can’t help but grin in response. He lifts me in his arms effortlessly, and I’m so used to his caveman ways that I melt into his arms, hugging him close. Then he takes a few steps, pulls out a kitchen chair, and sits down, placing me gently in his lap.
Breakfast is a fun affair. Damien feeds me for most of it, stealing kisses and caresses in between each bite. By the time we’re done, I’m soaking wet and breathless with desire, and Damien has gone hard under his jeans.
I twist in his lap to face him, placing a kiss on his mouth. He tastes like coffee, and he kisses me back forcefully.
“Are you still hungry, princess?” His hand sliding between my legs makes his implications clear.
Nodding shyly, I gasp as his fingers slip under my panties and into the wetness between my legs.
He groans, “So wet, so ready for me.”
Within seconds, he’s pulled himself out of his pants and rearranged me so I’m straddling him. Impatient, he pulls my panties to the side and aligns himself with my entrance. “I need to be inside you,” he says, looking into my eyes.
“Yes, Damien, I need you,” I whisper, sinking down onto him slowly. We both groan at the now-familiar sensation of our bodies connecting, and he begins to gently move my hips up and down, thrusting up into me from below. The feeling is incredible, and I’m soon babbling incoherently into his ear, gasping with each thrust. “Yes, please…more…oh, Damien, I—”
My pleasure is building fast, and just as I think I’m about to burst, Damien picks me up roughly and bends me over the counter, kicking my feet apart and running his hand through the slick wetness of my pussy. “You’re so perfect, princess, and you’re all mine,” he growls in my ear.
I barely have time to anticipate his next move before he’s thrusting into me from behind, harder than ever before. Each thrust presses my breasts into the cool counter beneath me, and his grip on my hips is bruising. The way he groans in my ear as he takes me this way, so unrestrained, turns me on so much that it’s only moments before my walls are fluttering around him and I’m moaning out my release.
“Yes, Damien, I’m yours!”
He thrusts hard into me a few more times before he stills, releasing himself inside me. I’m trembling, breathless, and…I suddenly realize, I’m happier than I’ve ever been.
Damien pulls out of me gently and turns me around in his arms. Picking me up, he carries me back to the chair and sits us down, with me in his lap again. He’s kissing my neck, my mouth, my face, the top of my head, and I cuddle into the strong embrace of the man I love.
Love?
It’s probably way too soon to say it, right? But I know my feelings are undeniable.
I look up at Damien, about to tell him what’s on my heart, but I hesitate. He smiles down at me. “Something on your mind, princess?”
“I—just…I just wanted to tell you that…I don’t think I’ve ever been happier than I am right now.”
His smile grows even wider. “I’m glad, princess. I would do anything to make you happy.”
My heart feels like it could burst. “I want to stay with you,” I confess. “But…I also want to see my mom, or at least talk to her—let her know I’m okay.” I feel a rush of guilt all over again at the reminder of how long I’ve already gone without calling her.
Damien’s smile drops and he stiffens, then sighs. “Princess, I need to tell you somethi—”
A loud buzz cuts into his words. Damien grimaces and pulls out his phone, frowning down at the screen for a few seconds and then looking up at me. “I’m sorry, baby. I have to leave and see this client. It won’t take long, I promise.” He leans in to kiss me until I’m achy and moaning into his mouth.
He breaks the kiss and stands up. “Find something to do in the house. You can go to the library or the theater room. We’ll continue where we left off.” He backs away slowly, his eyes filled with reluctance.
“It’s alright, Damien. I’ll be fine,” I assure him with a smile.
He leans down for another kiss before walking toward the elevator.