S E V E N

~ ANASTASIA ~

The warm glow of the floor lamps and the soft hums of the air conditioning welcomes me as I step foot into Damien's penthouse — my apartment if not for his freaking involvement. But my brain wasn't focused on the plush white couches and sofas. Instead, my mind still reels from the kiss.

The first kiss at the altar was vicious and fierce. It was as if he was trying to pass a point across to me. Claiming me. Punishing me. Making his stance known. And yes, it made my brain mushy and my pulse run hot.

But it's the second kiss that ignites my blood and has my toes curling in my shoe even if I don't want to admit it. It was playful and something I think looks like regret lingers in my heart. I should have have—

“Ahhh…” I gasp in surprise when my head suddenly meets a hard coarse surface. I step back, seeing it's Damien who'd suddenly stop.

“What the fuck are you thinking?”

“I should be asking you that.” He scowls.

I hiss, gathering my veil into my hand before rumpling it together to throw it on one of the sofas.

“Don't even try that.” He says, his voice dropping to a low edge. I turn to him, brows raised but he says nothing. That was when I finally shifted my gaze away from him to take in his… apartment.

The pristine white couches and sofas look too neat as if they were not being used at all. The center table looks clean, even the tiles have no blemishes. And that's when I turn back to the bastard standing with his own eyes fixed on me. Damien fucking Vicenzo is a clean freak.

My mind goes back to my disaster of a apartment and I swallow. “What?”

“I don't want my living room looking like your room.” He states, shrugging his jacket off as he starts to move away from the sofa's edge.

I snicker, stretching my hand to throw the veil on the couch when I halt midair. “Hey? Like my room?”

He looks at me over his shoulder. “Yes.”

“Were you peeping?” I ask, gritting my teeth. He's unbelievable!

“Who knows?” He shrugs, opening the door to a room down the hall and stepping in. Then, he shuts it close.

Heat crawls up my face in embarrassment and anger as I resist the urge to bury my self in the ground and bash his head against the fucking counter.

The door opens again and he steps out of the room without his jacket and with his sleeves rolled up to his arms. “Aren't you going to change?”

I clear my throat. “Ummm, yes.”

“Your luggages is in there.” He points to the room he just stepped out of as he walks casually to the open kitchen.

“Huh? Where's my room?”

He points to the room he just got out of and I shrug casually, fiddling with the pins in my hair while I walk towards the door.

However, when I open the door, my eyes widen and I march back to the open kitchen, fury blazing in my blood.

“We are to share the same fucking room?!”

He stares at me in confusion, halfway into his coffee. “Unfortunately, yes. The penthouse only has one room. You can take the couch while I take the bed though.”

I laugh, a humorless one while I turn back to the direction of the room. “You must be fucking kidding me.” Then, I slam the door loudly, making sure he hears.

I lean on the door, huffing while I take in the entire room. It's like two times bigger than my room with a king sized bed that can fit ten people. There's a floor to ceiling window that occupies the entire right wall of the room. The floor is illuminated by soft golden floor lamps. To my left, there's a small black shelf filled with books lined against the white wall. There's also a full length mirror and a dressing table.

A sigh slips from my throat, wondering where my luggages are

“The closet should be somewhere here.” I whisper, walking to my left.

I turn the first door, but it is the toilet, the second is the closet. I shake my head, seeing that all my luggages has been neatly arranged. I pick a pair of baby pink trousers and a matching baggy sweats before making my way to the door.

Dropping it on the bed, I move to the dressing table and sit down, pulling each drawer out. My mouth widens in confusion and awe. Each drawer is filled with my stuff.

Nonetheless, I take a cleanser and a wool and wipe off all my makeup until my skin is bare. I pull the pin from my hair, letting it cascade down my shoulders. My hands slip to my back, pulling and tugging at the knots holding the corset of my gown while I slowly walk to the full length mirror.

I bite my lip in defeat. I'm definitely sleeping in this gown tonight because my hand couldn't reach the zip holding the fucking corset.

I inhale deeply, turning my shoulders until it hurts but I'm not near giving up and I'm determined to fail trying when the door opens.

I turn to the door in annoyance when my eyes land on Damien who was cradling a cup of coffee.

“Do you fucking mind?” I snap.

He sighs, licking his lips as he takes slow steps towards me. “You understand that this is my room too, right?”

“Well, can I get some privacy for one fucking second?”

He brings the coffee to his lips, definitely hiding his reaction as his gaze wanders my body.

“Do you need a hand?” He asks.

“No.” I grind out. “Privacy. Ever heard of that?”

He sighs and without a word, walks past me to the attached bathroom after dropping the coffee on the dressing mirror. I turn back to the mirror. My face has gone red in anger and I can barely breathe due to how my hand is bent awkwardly behind my back.

“Do you need a hand?” I mimic his voice. “Yen yen yen yen.”

I push my shoulders upward and I hear it crack before pain shoots into my body from my shoulders.

I screech, closing my eyes. “Jesus Christ! What the fuck?!”

Suddenly, the bathroom's door is yanked open and Damien rushes out of it, his eyes blazing with fury and in alert. He's… naked with only a towel hanging snugly around his waist.

I turn away from his body, annoyed while my cheeks turn red in embarrassment. I fix my gaze on myself again, trying to reach the zip when I feel him behind me.

“I—”

“ —Just shut up and let me help.” He interrupts and I gulp.

I stiffen when I feel his fingers on mine. It burns from the mild contact but I slowly let go of the dress and allow my hand to drop by my sides. He packs my hair and drops it over my shoulder.

He grabs the zip and yanks it open and I gulp, holding the cloth to my chest while I barely contain my shivers.

“Thank—”

Then, his fingers latch to another hook.

“Damien, I can…”

I trail off as I feel him unclasp the hook too and I shiver when I feel cold air hitting my back. His fingers slip underneath the two halves of the back of my dress, pushing them apart and I gasp, holding my dress tightly to stop it from falling from my breast.

I tried to talk, but it was as if I'd lost my voice.

I feel Damien tugging the two halves of my dress, not yanking it, but it was a silent order.

And I don't know what had gotten into me, but I dropped my hand.

The dress falls away.

And I gulp when I feel his hands on my back while the dress pools at my feet until I'm standing in just a pair of lacy white thong panties. Bridal panties.

His hands slide over my hip and I tremble, a shiver running down my spine.

Then, he turns me around, and we are facing each other. He moves into me, our bodies pressing together and I can feel my nipple hardening. My eyes widen when I feel a bulge pressing into my stomach and I slowly raise my head to meet his eyes even when all the nerves in my body are screaming in protest.

I gulp, the loud voices in my heart swallowing the scream of protest in my brain. And I stand on my tippy toes while he leans down to meet me halfway.

I made the decision and sear my lips to his and he claims mine in a single most possessive kiss of my life.

We are here.

And I think that…. We are not supposed to be here.

There's definitely no going back now.