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What, the world’s coldest bodyguard? Fancy.
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2025-09-23 00:30:39
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Contract Marriage To The Alpha King What, the world’s coldest bodyguard? Fancy.
Ava’s POVDawn filtered through the penthouse windows in a gentle sweep, turning everything gold. I lay still, tangled in sheets that smelled of rain, expensive soap, and Damian’s cologne. My body was a map of last night’s journey—tender aches, fingerprints ghosted on my hips, the fading trace of his mouth on my skin. A memory to savor, but there was no time. Not today.Damian was already up, ruthless efficiency in every movement as he buttoned his cuffs and adjusted his tie. He caught my gaze in the mirror, his eyes sharp, unreadable.“We’re leaving before the office,” he said quietly—just two beats softer than a command, but softer all the same.He didn’t need to say Eli’s name. I felt it echo in the hollow of my chest. Worry fluttered through me, heavier than any lingering pleasure from the night before.I slid from the bed and into a simple navy dress, hands trembling slightly as I reached for my necklace. Damian watched, lips pressed thin; only the small furrow between his brows
Contract Marriage To The Alpha King The city’s untouchable king—dancing with his wife like a lovesick boy?
Ava’s POVThe rain started before we reached the terrace—just a hush at first, the sound of secrets gathering across the glass, then a soft percussion that made the whole city blur: towers dissolving to liquid light and every car’s tail-lamp a red ribbon trailing through the storm. It sounded like the world was drawing a velvet curtain around us, closing out everything else.When the double doors swung open, damp air rushed in—thorny, mineral, thick with roses and electricity. I faltered on the threshold, shoulder brushing Damian’s, my heels planted against the line between inside and out. The terrace had been set for something else—candle-light, neat bowls of petals, our white roses gleaming. Now each bloom bowed under the weight of rain, petals bruised and waxy with moisture. Lanterns guttered. The city lay at our feet, ghosted behind waterfalls of glass and weather.Damian turned back to search for something—his overcoat, maybe. He didn’t bother with it. Rain already jeweled his da
Contract Marriage To The Alpha King Possessive much, Mr. Blackwood?
Ava’s POVThe city burned, neon bleeding through the clouds, the pulse of Manhattan stamping its signature across the sky. The motorcade knifed through morning traffic, sirens parting like a sea at our approach. Inside the backmost car, the world dissolved to tinted glass: cocooned in quiet power, yet bracing for war.Damian Blackwood lounged beside me, all crisp dark wool and impossible focus. He looked out the window like a king surveying his domain—every inch the billionaire predator they all feared. But I sensed the tension winding through him, an alertness taut as a drawn bow. He rolled the tension between his fingers, slow and silent, until the final stretch to Blackwood Tower.His gaze slid to me—sharp, appraising, a secret touch behind his impassive façade. A singular brush of his hand found mine and remained, fierce and fleeting. It was just a heartbeat, but I felt it through every inch of me: a vow, an anchor. For him, I was something the world couldn’t touch—his shield, his
Contract Marriage To The Alpha King You move too much to be sleeping.
Ava’s POVMorning comes slow and golden over the city, diffusing through blackout curtains, brushing warmth across the sheets tangled around my legs. Damian’s arms are heavy and possessive atop me, his breath a low undulation against the nape of my neck. I shift, testing the boundaries of his grip. He holds me closer—firm, inexorable, an anchor against the restless tide of the coming day.The air tastes of silk and skin, sharp citrus from last night’s whiskey, and something darker—something only he carries, a scent on my wrists and thighs. The edges of the world stay blurred, held at bay by his heartbeat thrumming beneath my palm.He stirs, eyes half-lidded and wolfish, lashes shadowed on stubbled cheek. His voice is gravel and honey. “You move too much to be sleeping.”“I don’t want to wake up. Not yet,” I whisper, dragging my nails across the warm expanse of his ribs, following the edges of muscle, the places no one else ever sees.He presses a kiss behind my ear—soft, electric—and
Contract Marriage To The Alpha King You know me better than I know myself sometimes.
Damian's POV The mansion is quiet again—a rare and deliberate luxury, a hush earned through the day’s calculated violence. I refill both our glasses with Bordeaux, the vintage chosen not for status but for memory: the sunlight that ripened these grapes is the only thing tonight that's older than my ghosts.Ava sits across from me, framed in lamplight. The room is nearly all shadow, broken only by a slant of gold across the Turkish binder chairs and the glint of glass. No staff linger. No security checks pulse through the air. It’s just us—a dinner set for two, plates cooling between stories and silences that say more than words.She kicks my foot beneath the table, her gaze teasing. “Are you actually hungry, or is this all for show?”I glance at my untouched fillet, pretending to study its charred lines. “Not hungry for food,” I admit, swirling the wine. “But I’m trying.”She laughs, the sound soft but edged—it’s her gift to me, a melody meant to break the storm of my thoughts. “I no
Contract Marriage To The Alpha King Is that why you keep me close?
Damian's POVThe office is a living thing by nine o’clock: a web of quietly desperate ambition knotted between the glass walls and the matte-black marble floors. I can feel it before I see it, just as I feel the thread of Ava at my side—her steady footfalls, the small stack of folders pressed to her chest—both a ward and a weapon.Whispers scurry ahead of me, as they always do. That’s Blackwood. Did you hear about the shakeup last night? Someone’s head will roll today. I walk slower than I want to—the wolf in me itching to assert dominance, to disrupt the peace with a single snap—but I rein him in, for now.We bypass the outer offices, a silent path parting as we approach. Heads duck back to screens, conversations die on tongues. Good. Loyalty grows in the shadow of fear, but it thrives only under the illusion of safety. I offer neither freely.Ava passes me the first folder without a glance, just the brush of her fingertips grazing mine. Her perfume lingers. I thumb through the R&D p
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