Unfinished Business part 3

I woke before the sun fully cleared the skyline.

For a moment I didn’t move. The suite was quiet except for the low hum of the city far below and the steady sound of Damien’s breathing. He lay on his back beside me, one arm still draped across my waist even in sleep, the white sheet pushed down to his hips. His face looked younger like this—less sharp, the tension around his mouth finally gone.

I should have gotten up. I should have gathered my dress and left before the morning made everything real.

Instead I watched the slow rise and fall of his chest.

The sheet had slipped low enough that I could see the dark trail of hair below his navel and the heavy shape of him beneath the fabric. Heat curled low in my stomach. Four years and my body still reacted to him like no time had passed at all.

I shifted carefully, sliding down the bed until I was under the sheet. The warm, clean scent of his skin surrounded me. I pushed the fabric aside and found him soft at first, thick even in sleep. I wrapped my fingers around the base and leaned in, brushing my lips over the head.

He didn’t wake.

I took the tip into my mouth and sucked gently, tongue circling. He thickened against my tongue almost immediately. A low sound left his throat—half sigh, half moan—but his eyes stayed closed. Encouraged, I sank lower, hollowing my cheeks and sucking harder, one hand stroking what I couldn’t fit.

Another deeper sound rumbled out of him. His hips shifted. Then his hand found my hair.

I looked up.

Damien’s eyes were open, dark and heavy-lidded, watching me with the kind of focused intensity that had always undone me. His voice came out rough with sleep.

“Lila.”

I released him just long enough to climb up his body and kiss him. He tasted like the night before and something warmer. His hand stayed in my hair while the other slid down my back, gripping my ass and pulling me closer. I could feel him hard and ready between us.

I reached down, wrapped my fingers around him, and guided the head to my entrance. I sank down slowly—inch by inch—until he was fully inside me. The stretch pulled a soft sound from my throat. He was thicker like this, first thing in the morning, and my body had to adjust all over again.

Damien’s hands settled on my hips. “Fuck,” he muttered against my mouth. “Just like that.”

I started to move.

At first it was slow—rolling my hips, rising and falling in a steady rhythm while I braced my hands on his chest. He watched me the entire time, eyes locked on mine, jaw tight. Every time I sank down he exhaled like it cost him something. The wet sound of it filled the quiet room.

I picked up the pace.

Faster. Harder. My breasts moved with every downward stroke. Damien’s grip on my hips tightened, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. He started meeting me halfway, thrusting up into me with controlled force that made my breath catch.

“That’s it,” he rasped. “Take what you need.”

I rode him harder, chasing the building pressure low in my belly. His hands slid up my sides, cupped my breasts, thumbs dragging across my nipples. The dual sensation pushed me closer. I could feel him getting thicker inside me, the first signs that he was close.

“Lila—” His voice was strained. “I’m going to—”

He came with a rough, broken sound, hips jerking up as he spilled inside me. Heat flooded me. I kept moving through it, grinding down on him, but the sharp edge of my own release stayed just out of reach. Frustration flickered through the pleasure.

I didn’t stop.

Even as he softened slightly I kept riding him, slower now, using the slick mess he’d left to slide up and down his length. Damien’s eyes opened again, darker than before. He watched me chase it, one hand sliding between us to circle my clit with firm, precise pressure.

“Greedy,” he murmured, voice still rough. “You didn’t get there yet.”

“No.”

“Then take it.”

His other hand gripped my hip and helped me move, thrusting up to meet every downward stroke. The dual stimulation—his cock still thick inside me, his thumb working my clit—pushed me higher. Wet sounds filled the room. My thighs burned. I didn’t care.

When the orgasm finally hit it was deep and rolling, my body clenching around him in waves while I moaned against his mouth. He held me through it, thrusting lazily until the last tremor faded.

I collapsed forward onto his chest, breathing hard. His arms locked around me immediately, one hand stroking slowly up and down my back.

For a long time neither of us spoke.

Eventually Damien’s voice came, quiet and rough against my hair. “You’re not running out of here the second I fall asleep again.”

I lifted my head just enough to look at him. “Is that an order?”

“Yes.” His fingers traced the curve of my spine. “I have a board meeting at eleven. You’re staying until I get back. We’ll talk about what happens next.”

“What happens next?”

His eyes met mine, steady and possessive. “You stop pretending four years fixed anything. And I stop pretending I can walk away from you a second time.”

I should have argued. I should have reminded him of every reason this was complicated—his company, my firm, the way he’d left the first time without warning.

Instead I rested my head back on his chest and listened to the solid beat of his heart under my ear.

Outside the glass the city was fully awake.

Inside the suite, the morning light spilled across tangled sheets and the quiet, irreversible knowledge that neither of us was finished with the other.

And for the first time in four years, I didn’t want to be.