Chapter 6: The Terrace in the Dark

The night air hit my skin like a shock of ice, but it did nothing to cool the fire raging beneath my red silk dress.

Damian led me out through the french doors onto the secluded marble terrace overlooking the sweeping, dark gardens of the estate. The heavy bass of glass clinking and muffled voices from the dining room faded behind us, replaced by the rustle of pine trees and the distant rumble of thunder on the horizon.

The moment the french doors clicked shut behind us, Damian let go of my hand.

I spun around, my back slamming against the stone balustrade, my chest heaving as I gasped for air. "You're insane! You did that under the table right in front of twelve syndicate leaders! Right in front of Lucian!"

Damian didn't look bothered. He unbuttoned his suit jacket, tossing it casually over a wrought-iron terrace chair. He walked toward me with that slow, deliberate stride, trapping me against the cold stone railing, his broad shoulders blocking out the faint light from the mansion.

"And you loved every second of it," Damian purred, his voice low, raspy, and dripping with dark satisfaction. "You didn't scream, Valerie. You didn't push my hand away. You squeezed your thighs around my fingers and took it like a good little wife."

"I had no choice!" I hissed, my face burning crimson in the shadows. "If I made a scene, your security guards would have shot me, or Lucian would have…"

"Lucian knew," Damian interrupted smoothly.

My voice died in my throat. The cold night air suddenly felt thick, suffocating.

"What?" I whispered, my heart doing a violent, painful flip against my ribs.

Damian leaned down, his towering frame crowding over mine until the scent of cedar, woodsmoke, and rich bourbon completely enveloped me. He raised one broad hand, his knuckles lightly tracing the line of my jaw down to my collarbone, resting right over the pulse point hammering in my neck.

"Why do you think he sent you out here with me, Valerie?" Damian whispered, his dark eyes gleaming like polished obsidian in the moonlight. "Lucian isn't blind to what happens in his own house. He controls the empire with his mind... but he relies on me to handle the physical details."

"You're lying," I choked out, shaking my head, though my voice sounded weak even to my own ears. "He looked me in the eye in the library this morning. He told me he couldn't touch me. He told me to keep my dignity."

"He told you what you needed to hear so you would sign the papers," Damian growled, his hand slipping around the back of my neck, his fingers tangling into my dark hair, tilting my head back. "Lucian doesn't care about your dignity, little bride. He cares about results. And right now, the Rossi empire needs an heir."

The word hung in the cool night air like a heavy blade.

An heir.

"He... he wants you to get me pregnant?" I breathed horror and a sickening, electric thrill warring violently inside my stomach.

"He wants the Rossi bloodline secured before the rival families realize how vulnerable our position is," Damian purred, his thumb caressing my swollen lower lip. "And since my brother sits in a chair... I am the one tasked with putting a baby inside you."

"No..." I whimpered, but the word was lost as Damian brought his mouth down on mine.

The kiss was wild, dominant, and utterly unyielding. He didn't ask; he claimed. His tongue swept into my mouth, tasting the sweet remnant of wine on my lips, consuming my soft gasp of shock. I meant to fight him, my hands coming up to press against his solid chest, but the moment my palms felt the roaring heat of his body and the hard thrum of his heartbeat, my fingers traitorously gathered the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer.

Damian let out a dark, guttural growl deep in his throat. He hooked his arm under my thighs and lifted me off my feet, sitting me up on the high stone balustrade.

The drop behind me was two stories down into the dark gardens, but I didn't feel fear, I only felt the suffocating, magnetic pull of the man towering between my open legs.

He gathered the rich red silk of my dress, sliding the fabric up past my hips until my bare skin was completely exposed to the night air. He didn't waste time with words. His large, calloused hands gripped my waist, pulling me to the very edge of the stone ledge, lodging his broad hips flush against my core.

"Look at me, Valerie," Damian commanded, his voice tight, rough with raw desire.

I forced my eyes open, my vision swimming with heat and starlight. His dark face was inches from mine, his jaw set, his eyes burning with an intense, possessive hunger that made my whole body ache.

He reached down, unbuckling his belt with one hand while his other hand kept a firm, inescapable grip on my hip. In one swift movement, he freed his thick, throbbing length, the hot tip pressing directly against the damp lace of my underwear.

"Damian... out here? Someone could look out the window..." I gasped out, my breath coming in short, ragged hitches.

"Let them look," Damian growled against my lips. "Let them see who really owns the Don's bride."

He hooked two fingers into the side of my lace panties, tearing the thin fabric aside. Before I could catch my breath, he drove his hips forward, plunging his massive length all the way inside me in one long, relentless thrust.

A loud, helpless scream tore from my throat, but Damian caught it with his mouth, drinking my voice as he filled me so completely my eyes rolled back.

The stretch was magnificent, intense, and white-hot. After the torture he had put me through at the dinner table, my body accepted him instantly, clamping down around his thick shaft with dark, desperate hunger.

Damian didn't give me time to settle. He set a punishing, rhythmic pace right there on the open terrace, sliding nearly all the way out before driving back in with ground-shaking, possessive force.

The cool marble of the balustrade pressed against my lower back, creating a searing contrast against the liquid fire of his body thrusting into mine. Every stroke hit the exact, deep nerve inside me that made my toes curl and my fingers dig ruthlessly into his broad shoulders, leaving red marks through his shirt.

"You're so tight..." Damian rasped into my neck, his breath ragged, his muscles straining as he lifted my hips higher to drive even deeper. "So wet for your husband's brother."

"Damian... Damian!" I sobbed out, my head falling back, exposing my long throat to the night sky as the wave of my climax began to build at terrifying speed.

He didn't slow down. He increased his speed, his thrusts becoming feral, uninhibited, and heavy, making the fabric of my red dress rustle loudly in the dark. His thumb found my core, stroking the swollen peak in sync with his deep thrusts, driving me completely over the edge.

I was shattered.

My inner walls convulsed violently around him, sending a shockwave of pure, blinding ecstasy straight through my veins. I clung to him for dear life as I screamed his name into the wind, my body trembling in the grip of an intense, shattering peak.

Damian let out a low, animalistic roar against my shoulder, his grip tightening until it left bruises on my hips. He slammed into me three more times with wild, unbridled power before he stiffened, buried deep to the hilt, spilling his hot, heavy seed inside me with a shudder that shook his massive frame.

For several long, breathless minutes, we stayed locked together on the terrace, the wind howling around us as our chests heaved in unison.

Slowly, Damian pulled back, smoothing my red silk dress down over my legs with surprisingly gentle hands. He buckled his belt, adjusted his shirt, and picked up his suit jacket from the chair, his cold, dominant composure returning in a flash.

"Go back inside," Damian said smoothly, his voice returning to that cool, detached tone. "Lucian is waiting for you in the master suite."

I sat on the stone ledge, my legs trembling so badly I could barely stand, feeling his warm seed slowly trickling down the inside of my thigh.

I looked up at him, my voice raspy and breathless. "And where are you going?"

Damian paused at the french doors, looking back at me with a slow, wicked smile that sent a chill straight down my spine.

"To watch from the security room, little bride," Damian whispered softly. "Tonight... it's Lucian's turn.”