CHAPTER 7

CLARA

The hotel was everything I’d expected from Damien—expensive, elegant, dripping with luxury. The penthouse suite overlooked the city, all floor-to-ceiling windows and marble surfaces. Rose petals scattered across the bed, champagne chilling in a silver bucket, candles flickering everywhere.

“I wanted our first night to be perfect,” Damien said, his hands settling on my waist from behind.

I leaned back against him, feeling his breath catch. “It’s beautiful.”

His lips found my neck, pressing soft kisses along my throat. Every touch sent conflicting signals through my body—my skin came alive under his attention while my heart burned with rage.

“I love you,” he whispered against my ear.

The words I’d dreamed of hearing from him for years. Now they meant nothing, directed at a woman who didn’t really exist.

I turned in his arms, letting my fingers trail down his chest. His breathing became ragged, his eyes dark with desire. I could feel his heartbeat racing, could smell his arousal.

“Show me,” I whispered, my lips barely brushing his.

He groaned, his hands tangling in my hair as he pulled me closer. But just as his lips were about to claim mine, I stepped back with a soft laugh.

“Not yet,” I said, moving toward the champagne. “We should celebrate first.”

I poured two glasses, making sure to arch my back as I bent over the bucket. When I turned, Damien was watching me like a starving man watching a feast.

“To new beginnings,” I toasted, clinking my glass against his.

We drank, and I made sure to lick a drop of champagne from my lips slowly. Damien’s grip on his glass tightened.

“Liora,” his voice was strained. “You’re driving me crazy.”

“Am I?” I set down my glass and walked to him, my hips swaying. I pressed myself against him, feeling how much his cock had stand. “Good.”

I kissed him then, deep and passionate, letting him taste what he thought he could have. His hands roamed my body, desperate and hungry, and I let him touch, let him think he was about to get everything he wanted.

Then I pulled away again.

“I should change,” I said innocently. “This dress is so restrictive.”

I disappeared into the bathroom, leaving him standing there, breathing hard and frustrated. Through the mirror, I could see him pacing like a caged animal.

When I came out, I was wearing a silk nightgown that left little to the imagination. Damien’s eyes went wide, his mouth falling open slightly.

“Holy wolf, Liora…”

I walked to him slowly, letting him drink in every curve the magic had given me. When I was close enough to feel the heat radiating from his skin, I placed one hand on his chest.

“I want you,” I whispered. “So badly it hurts.”

“Then take me,” he said roughly, his hands reaching for me.

I stepped back, just out of reach. “But I can’t.”

The confusion in his eyes would have been funny if I wasn’t so focused on my performance.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not ready,” I said, wrapping my arms around myself like I was vulnerable. “I know we’re married, but everything happened so fast. I need time to adjust, to feel comfortable.”

“Comfortable?” He ran his hands through his hair, frustration clear on his face. “Liora, we’ve been together for three months. We’re married.”

“I know, and I want to be with you. But sharing a bed… being that intimate… I just need a little more time.” I moved toward the bedroom door. “Would you mind sleeping in the other room tonight? Just until I’m ready?”

I could see him fighting with himself, desire warring with the need to be understanding. Finally, the gentleman in him won.

“Of course,” he said, though his voice was tight. “Whatever you need.”

“Thank you.” I stood on my toes and kissed his cheek, making sure to press against him one more time. “I love you for understanding.”

Then I slipped into the bedroom and closed the door firmly behind me.

I heard him sigh heavily on the other side, then the sound of his footsteps moving away.

Alone at last, I let the sweet mask drop from my face. I changed into simple pajamas, my skin still tingling from his touches. The magic made it impossible to ignore how my body responded to him, even when my mind screamed in protest.

I tried to sleep, but rest wouldn’t come. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw his face—the love in his eyes meant for someone else, the desire I’d awakened and denied.

Then I heard voices outside.

I crept to the door, pressing my ear against the wood.

“Damien?” That voice. Sweet, familiar, poisonous.

Sage.

“What are you doing here?” Damien’s voice was tired.

“I was worried about you. You looked stressed when you left the party.”

“I’m fine, Sage.”

“Are you?” Her voice got closer. “You don’t look fine. You look… frustrated.”

There was a pause, and I could practically feel the tension through the door.

“Marriage is an adjustment,” Damien said finally.

“It doesn’t have to be.” Sage’s voice was soft, seductive. “You know my room is just down the hall. You could stay with me tonight. Like old times..”

I waited for his answer, my heart hammering against my ribs.