Chapter Six
Damien
I have to fuck her. Now.
I pick her up, carrying her all the way up to my bedroom.
Lust rages in my blood, almost blinding my vision.
I lay her gently on the bed, then step back to tear away my clothing in a hurry before joining her there.
I spread my body above hers, pressing her down into the mattress, my cock nestling against her folds, hard and throbbing.
I raise my hand to her face, gently caressing her cheeks. “This is going to hurt, firefly.”
She nods, her gorgeous green eyes glazed over with pleasure. “I’m ready. I want you.”
God, she’s so beautiful.
I line myself up and push inside her slowly. She gasps and I freeze, waiting as her walls flex around me, her body adjusting to the intrusion. I grind my teeth, fighting not to give in to the exquisite tightness, the slick heat. I feel like I’ll explode if I so much as shift my weight.
It’s her first time, and I want it to be as pleasurable as possible, but damn if that isn’t costing me my sanity.
I reach down and stroke her cheek, then her hair. “Oh God,” she whispers, swiveling her hips in a way that threatens to drive me right over the edge.
I push my body up and slowly slide into her again. She gasps, her eyes drifting closed. She slides one hand over my shoulder, the other slowly stroking my back, from the nape of my neck to the base of my spine.
“You feel so good, baby,” I murmur, kissing her forehead.
“You do too,” she whispers.
I can’t hold back any longer. I plunge inside her, deep into that maddening clutch, that heat. Lena moans, her fingers digging into the skin of my shoulders.
“Yes!” she gasps, her breath hot against my face.
I pull out and thrust into her again, swallowing her moan with my mouth against hers, our lips pressed tightly together in a passionate kiss. My tongue invades her mouth in time with my thrusts, and each time I enter her I feel like I’m somehow claiming her more fully.
Our bodies are joined as tightly as they can be and yet I want her closer, want to bury myself in her tight virgin heat until the end of time.
I continue to fuck her. Hard and fast. Each thrust driving me closer to the edge of insanity. I don’t care. The pleasure is insane, indescribable…like nothing I’ve ever experienced.
I grip the sheets tighter, throwing my head back with a growl as her muscles tighten impossibly around my length. She’s coming again, around my cock, and this time I’m right behind her, spilling into her warmth, filling her with my essence.
“Oh, baby,” I growl as she puts her lips against my ear, whispering my name over and over, like a prayer. “My perfect baby girl.”
I stay inside her for a long while, our arms around each other and our breaths in sync until we fall asleep.
***
The next morning, I wake up with an unfamiliar but welcome lightness in my chest. For the first time in years, my bed doesn’t feel cold. Her scent lingers on the sheets, warm vanilla and something uniquely Lena. My hand instinctively reaches across the mattress, but it’s empty.
My chest tightens. Irrational, I know, but still.
I push up, run a hand through my hair, and stride out of the bedroom. It doesn’t take long to find her.
She’s in the living room, dancing barefoot. The hem of my black button-up shirt skims her thighs as she moves across the polished floor. Her arms arc gracefully, her body turning with liquid precision. She doesn’t notice me yet, completely lost in the music only she seems to hear.
I lean against the doorframe, silent. Just watching.
Christ. She’s…breathtaking.
Not because she’s perfect—though she is—but because she feels every movement. Like the music lives in her veins. It’s the same thing that drew me in the first time I saw her dance. The same thing that’s kept me awake too many nights since.
She spins, her dark braid whipping over her shoulder, and then she sees me.
Her steps falter, a blush crawling up her cheeks. “You’re staring.”
“Guilty,” I say, my voice rougher than I intended.
Instead of retreating, she smiles shyly and holds out a hand. “Dance with me?”
I hesitate. Dancing isn’t my world. I build, command, conquer. I don’t waltz around my living room at eight in the morning.
But then she tilts her head, her green eyes sparkling with mischief. “Afraid you’ll step on my toes?”
Damn tease.
I push off the frame and close the distance. “You’re trouble, firefly,” I murmur, taking her hand in mine.
Her fingers are warm, delicate against my palm. She places my other hand at her waist and I fight the urge to drag her closer.
“Just follow me,” she whispers, guiding me through slow, easy steps. Her body fits against mine like it was made for it.
“I thought you left,” I say, tightening my arm around her waist and pressing her body closer to mine.
The thought bothered me more than I’m willing to admit.
“Why would I do that?” she asks quietly, a soft smile playing on her lips. “Last night was beautiful.”
My chest tightens with something indescribable, and in that moment, I want to hand her the whole damn world.
“You’re good at this,” I mutter, changing the topic to distract myself from the strange emotions welling in my chest. “How long have you been dancing?”
Her lips twitch. “I’ve been dancing since I was six. It’s the only thing I’ve ever wanted. We used to watch the big companies on TV and copy their moves in front of the mirror.”
“We?”
“Abby and I. Abby is my sister,” she adds with an apologetic smile. She seems to read the question in my eyes. Her smile dims and she lets out a soft sigh. “Abby was diagnosed with hypertrophic cardiomyopathy, so she couldn’t continue with ballet.”
“I’m sorry,” I say quietly, holding her gaze.
She nods, giving me a sad smile. “It’s fine. She’s the reason I fight so hard. I dance for both of us now.”
Something twists in my chest. I’ve built an empire from nothing, clawed my way up from a shitty apartment and an absent father. I know what it means to fight for something no one else believes you can have.
“You’ve earned your place, Lena,” I tell her, keeping my voice firm. “Don’t ever let anyone, including Logan, make you think otherwise.”
“You sound like you know what it’s like,” she says, her eyes searching my face like the answers are etched somewhere on my forehead.
I give a short laugh, low and bitter. “I know exactly what it’s like.
I grew up with nothing. No money, no connections.
Just a mother working herself to the bone and me swearing I’d never stay trapped in that life.
I worked, studied, fought for every inch until I could build this company.
People see the Blackwell name now and assume it was handed to me. They have no idea.”
Her hand tightens in mine. “That’s why you built the Academy, isn’t it? To give other kids chances you didn’t have?”
I pause. No one’s ever said it out loud before. “Maybe,” I admit quietly.
She studies me, her lips curving into a smile that hits me harder than it should. “That’s…kind of beautiful, Damien.”
The way she says my name, soft but certain, does dangerous things to me.
I pull her closer, enough to feel her heartbeat flutter against my chest. “Careful, firefly. Keep looking at me like that and I won’t stop at dancing.”
Her blush deepens, but she doesn’t look away. “Maybe I don’t want you to, Daddy.”
Fuck.
Her words hit me like gasoline to an open flame. Every shred of restraint I’ve been clinging to snaps. I cup her face in both hands and crush my mouth to hers.
She gasps, but instantly melts against me, her hands interlocking around my neck. I slide my tongue into her mouth, claiming her, savoring her sweet, addictive taste.
She whimpers, and it drives me insane. I slide my hand down her slender body, gripping her hip, pulling her flush against me. She fits so perfectly, like her softness is meant to press against every hard line of me.
Her body arches, breasts pressing into my chest, and I groan into her mouth. God, she’s fire and innocence at once. Soft lips, frantic heartbeat, the faintest tremor in her knees as if she can’t handle the storm I’m unleashing in her.
I back her toward the wall, pinning her there with my weight. She tilts her head up, giving me everything, and I take it. I kiss her harder, deeper, until she’s clinging to me, until my self-control is hanging by a single fraying thread.
I cup one of her breasts through the material of my shirt, rubbing my thumb over her nipple. She moans, the bud hardening under my finger.
I let out a soft growl, tearing the shirt away from her shoulders. Buttons pop and fall to the ground but I don’t give a damn. I snatch my mouth from hers and lower it to the exposed flesh with a satisfied groan.
She lets out a breathy sigh, burying her fingers in my hair as I suckle her breast, rolling my tongue around the tip. I slip a hand between her thighs and her legs instantly widen. I fondle her entrance, sucking harder when I discover how wet she is.
Just as I’m about to slide my finger into her, my phone vibrates harshly in my pocket.
I ignore it at first, burying my face in her neck, tasting her skin, but it keeps buzzing relentlessly.
That can only mean one thing. Trouble.
With a curse, I yank the phone out of my pocket. “What?”
On the other end, my assistant’s frantic voice cuts through the haze in my head. “Sir, there’s a situation at the office. It’s serious. We need you.”
A situation. Perfect fucking timing.
I end the call and bite back another curse.
Lena’s still pinned beneath me, chest rising and falling fast, lips parted, eyes wide and flushed. She looks wrecked in the most beautiful way. Mine.
I press one last, rough kiss to her mouth before pulling back, forcing myself to let go. “Stay here. I need to handle an urgent matter.”
She nods, pressing her lips together as if to stop herself from asking questions, and for a second, I think about just throwing common sense out the window.
Just for a second.