Protecting the Billionaire’s Daughter

When Damon pulled away from me in that car, leaving me trembling and unsatisfied, I thought I’d hate him.I thought I’d bury the memory, smother the heat, pretend none of it had happened.But I didn’t.I replayed every second of it.The roughness of his hands, the hunger in his kiss, the way his tongue had circled my nipple until I nearly screamed.And most of all, his warning.If you tempt me again, Aria, I won’t stop next time.Those words burned hotter than his touch.Because I didn’t want him to stop.So the next morning, I decided to test him.⸻Breakfast at the Kingsley mansion was never a quiet affair. Staff moved like clockwork, silver trays clinking, fresh juice pouring. My father sat at the head of the long mahogany table, scrolling through stock reports with the intensity of a man who thought the world spun only because he told it to.I was supposed to sit beside him. Silent. Perfect. Decorative.Instead, my eyes went straight to Damon.He stood against the wall, dressed in

I didn’t see Damon for two days.Not really, anyway. He was there, always there—silent, shadowing me like the perfect soldier—but he didn’t look at me. Not once. His eyes, which had burned with fury and possession when he ripped Ethan off me, were now ice.It was torture.And I knew it was deliberate.This was his punishment.⸻The morning after the gala, I tested him. I wore the same silk robe I’d worn the night of his warning. I lingered in the hallway, walking slower than necessary, brushing past him close enough that my perfume clung to his suit.Nothing.At breakfast, I crossed my legs under the table, letting my dress slip high enough to make even the butler choke on his water. Damon didn’t flinch. Didn’t glance. Didn’t breathe.It drove me insane.Because I’d tasted the truth in him already. I’d seen him snap. I’d felt his hands on me, rough and hungry, in that car. I’d heard the crack in his voice when he slammed me against that wall.And now he expected me to believe it meant

His mouth was everywhere.The moment the door shut behind us, Damon shoved me against the wall, his chest crushing into mine, his breath hot and ragged like he’d been holding it back all night. I barely had a chance to gasp before his lips devoured mine, hungry, desperate, like he needed this kiss to survive.My fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, closer, until there was no space between us. His tongue slid against mine, teasing, claiming, and I let him, I begged for it. Every kiss felt like fire, like we were burning alive but too addicted to stop.Then his hands moved.One cupped the side of my face, keeping me trapped in his kiss. The other slid down, brushing over my waist before boldly rising higher. My breath hitched when his palm covered my breast through the thin silk of my dress. He groaned into my mouth, the sound low and dangerous, as his thumb flicked over my hardened nipple.I gasped against his lips, the sensation sharp and sweet, leaving me trembling. “Damo

The scream split the silence like glass shattering.My heart leapt into my throat as Damon sprinted down the corridor, his broad shoulders vanishing into the shadows. For a second, fear rooted me to the spot. But then I ran too, my heels clattering against the marble, dread clawing at my chest.When I rounded the corner, I froze.Lina was crumpled against the wall, her tray shattered on the floor, tea staining the rug like blood. Her hands trembled as she tried to gather the shards, her breath hitching. Damon was already crouched beside her, his hand gripping her wrist—not roughly, but firm enough to steady her shaking.“What happened?” His voice was low, calm, but edged with danger.“I—I tripped, sir.” Lina’s voice quivered. Her eyes darted toward the far end of the hall. I followed her gaze—and saw nothing. Just the flicker of candlelight against the cold stone walls.But Lina’s face told me everything. She wasn’t clumsy. She was terrified.Damon’s eyes narrowed, following the same

The door handle twisted again. My lungs seized. Damon leaned in close, his breath ghosting my ear, his voice a whisper sharp as steel. “Don’t speak.”The lock rattled. My chest tightened until I thought I’d faint. I opened my mouth, but Damon pressed two fingers against my lips. His eyes bore into mine, promising me he had this.“Aria,” Father said again, voice calmer now, but with that weight that always made me feel like a child trembling before judgment. “Open the door.”Damon moved before I could stop him. With one smooth motion, he unlocked it, sliding it open just a crack—just enough to step into Father’s line of sight but shield me behind his body.“Sir,” Damon said, voice clipped, professional. “I brought her here to rest. She wasn’t feeling well.”Father’s gaze cut like glass, moving from Damon’s broad shoulders to the flicker of me behind him. His eyes narrowed. “Rest. In a locked room?”Damon didn’t blink. “I thought it best no one disturbed her.”The silence that followed