Chapter 3 – Tell me to stop

“Are you ready?”

His voice was deep, controlled, but there was a flicker in his eyes—something dangerous, something barely contained. Damien stood near the bed, his jacket was gone, he unbuttoned his shirt to reveal the lean lines of his chest.

Aria’s breath hitched. Her legs felt like they weren’t hers anymore. She clutched the strap of her bag like it was her last lifeline.

“I… I don’t know,” she whispered, her voice so small it barely made it past her lips.

Damien moved closer, slow and deliberate, his presence overwhelming the air between them. He stopped just in front of her, close enough that she could feel the heat of his skin and smell the faint trace of expensive cologne mingling with soap.

“You don’t have to do this,” he said softly, searching her face. “If you want to walk out that door, I won’t stop you. And don't worry, there will be no consequences.”

Her throat tightened. His words were kind—but the reality waiting outside that door wasn’t. She has no money and nowhere to stay. A lifetime of being unwanted.

“I’ll stay,” she said finally, though her voice trembled like fragile glass.

Something flickered in his gaze—approval, maybe even relief. He lifted a hand, slowly, giving her time to pull away. When she didn’t, his fingers brushed her cheek, warm and steady, and for the first time in years, she didn’t feel like someone’s burden.

“Aria,” he murmured, his voice like velvet against her skin. “If I touch you tonight, it’s because you want me to. Do you?”

Her heart pounded so loud it drowned out reason. And then—barely—she nodded.

That was all it took.

Damien’s hand slid behind her neck, drawing her closer with infinite care. His lips touched hers softly, like a question. Her breath caught. The kiss deepened, slow and intoxicating, tasting of whiskey and warmth.

When his arms circled her waist, pulling her gently against him, her knees nearly buckled.

He lifted her with ease, setting her down on the edge of the bed, his mouth trailing from her lips to her jaw, then lower, leaving fire in its wake.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmured against her skin, even as his hands skimmed over her trembling frame.

She didn’t.

Because for the first time, she wanted to be wanted. Even if it was only for one night.

His fingers found the zipper of her dress, tugging slowly, giving her time to change her mind. When it slid off her shoulders, pooling at her waist, Damien stilled—his breath catching like he hadn’t expected this much innocence.

And when he finally realized—when her body tensed under his touch and his fingers froze—he pulled back sharply, eyes dark with something almost… regret.

“Aria…” His voice was hoarse now, strained. “You’ve never—”

She shook her head quickly, cheeks burning.

“Christ,” he cursed under his breath, raking a hand through his hair. “I should stop. My goodness, why didn't you tell me?.”

Tears welled in her eyes before she could stop them. “Please… don’t make me feel like this was a mistake.”

Damien froze, every muscle taut. Something in her voice—fragile, pleading—whatever restraint he had left.

With a groan that sounded like surrender, he captured her mouth again, fiercer this time, like a man losing a battle with himself.

Gentle at first. Careful. Until he lost his cool.

Until the dam inside him shattered.

The world dissolved into heat and tangled sheets. Pain and pleasure collided, tears stung her lashes as the sharp ache of first time gave way to something deeper—something she’d never felt before.

Damien cursed softly against her skin, holding her tighter as if to protect her from the very fire he’d started.

But once wasn’t enough.

Not when she looked at him with those wide, innocent eyes that made him feel like he wasn’t a man made of steel and shadows.

Round after round, until her body trembled and her mind drifted into weightless oblivion, lost in his arms, in the heat, in a night that felt like forever.

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Next Morning – 7:02 AM

Light filtered through the curtains, painting gold across the rumpled sheets. Aria stirred slowly, every muscle aching in ways she’d never known. For a moment, she smiled faintly, remembering the way he held her like she mattered.

But when her hand reached across the bed, the space was cold. Empty.

“Damien?” she called softly, pushing herself up.

No answer.

Her eyes darted around the suite. No sign of him. Not even a jacket draped over a chair.

Her heart sank as she spotted an envelope on the glass table. With trembling fingers, she opened it—and froze.

A check.

Twenty thousand dollars.

Her breath caught as the tears came hard and fast, blurring the ink on the paper. Not because of the money, but because that’s all she was worth to him in the end—a transaction, like she’d feared all along.

No trace of the man who’d made her feel alive for the first time... he didn't even leave any note for me.

She pressed her fist to her mouth, choking back a sob.

Last night, she had given him everything.

Her trust. Her body. Her first time.

And now she had nothing.

With shaking hands, Aria dressed, clutching her bag to her chest. When she walked out of that suite, she didn’t look back—because if she did, she might never leave.

But the memory stayed. The Ache in her heart was to heavy and she doesn't know where else to go...