chapter 3

The study door stood ajar by barely an inch, a sliver of darkness from the hallway bleeding into the warm amber glow of the desk lamp. Rain still battered the tall windows overlooking the cliffs, but the thunder had softened to a low, continuous growl that matched the pounding of my heart. Damien was buried just the tip inside me—thick, hot, stretching me in the most exquisite burn—his massive frame pinning me to the edge of the mahogany desk. Spilled scotch soaked the papers beneath my bare thighs, the sharp scent of alcohol mixing with the heady musk of our arousal.

Sophia’s hesitant voice hovered in the air like smoke. “Dad? The light’s still on… I forgot my charger for the plane tomorrow. Can I just grab it quick?”

My entire body locked up. Panic and forbidden thrill collided in my chest, making it impossible to breathe. Damien’s hand remained clamped gently but firmly over my mouth, his dark bourbon eyes boring into mine with a savage intensity that stole what little air I had left. Silver threaded through his black hair gleamed under the light, and the sharp cut of his jaw was clenched so tight a muscle ticked. He looked every bit the untouchable billionaire predator—forty-five, powerful, and seconds away from claiming what he’d denied himself for years.

He didn’t pull out. Instead, he pushed forward another slow, torturous inch, eyes never leaving mine. The stretch was overwhelming, deliciously painful in the best way. I whimpered into his palm, the sound muffled but unmistakable.

“Shh,” he breathed against my temple, voice so low it was almost lost beneath the rain. His free hand gripped my hip hard enough to bruise, holding me perfectly still while he sank deeper. “Not a sound, sweetheart. Or I’ll fuck you so deep she hears every wet slap.”

Lightning flashed outside, illuminating the study in harsh white: the wall of leather-bound books, the crystal decanters on the sideboard, the Persian rug now rumpled under our feet. The Blackwood estate felt alive with danger tonight—its sprawling wings silent except for the distant crash of waves on the rocks far below the cliffs. Sophia’s footsteps hesitated just outside, soft on the marble.

Damien’s lips brushed my ear as he rocked his hips in shallow, controlled thrusts—barely moving, yet enough to make stars explode behind my eyelids. “Answer her. Tell her you’ll bring it to her room in a minute. Make it convincing… while I’m buried inside this greedy little pussy.”

He eased his hand from my mouth just enough for me to speak, but his thumb stayed pressed to my lower lip, a reminder of ownership. I swallowed hard, voice shaky but steady enough. “Soph… it’s me. I’ll grab your charger and bring it to your room in a sec. Go back to bed—you need sleep for the flight.”

A beat of silence. Then Sophia’s relieved sigh. “Thanks, Ava. You’re the best. Night, Dad—don’t work too late.”

Her footsteps retreated again, fading down the long hallway toward the east wing. The moment they disappeared completely, Damien’s control snapped like the storm breaking overhead.

He drove into me with one powerful thrust, burying himself to the hilt. A choked cry tore from my throat before he could cover my mouth again. The fullness was overwhelming—hot, thick, perfect. He filled me so completely I felt him everywhere, pressing against spots I didn’t know existed. My walls clenched around him instinctively, drawing a guttural groan from deep in his chest.

“Fuck, Ava,” he rasped, forehead pressed to mine as he held still for one torturous moment, letting me adjust. “So tight… so fucking perfect. Like you were made for this cock.”

Then he started moving—deep, punishing strokes that rocked the heavy desk beneath us. The spilled scotch slicked our skin, making every slide wet and obscene. His hand returned to my mouth, muffling my moans as he fucked me harder, hips snapping with years of pent-up hunger. The other hand gripped my thigh, spreading me wider, angling so he hit that spot inside me with every thrust.

Rain lashed the windows harder, wind howling around the eaves of the mansion like it approved of our sin. The study smelled of sex now—musky, salty, mixed with sandalwood cologne and the faint metallic edge of the storm. Damien’s dress shirt was half-unbuttoned, revealing the hard ridges of his abs and the dark trail of hair leading down to where we were joined. Silver at his temples caught the light with every powerful movement.

“You’ve haunted me,” he growled between thrusts, voice rough and broken. “Every summer by the pool in those tiny bikinis. Every holiday dinner where you’d wear those backless dresses and look at me like you wanted me to bend you over the table. I jerked off thinking about this—ruining my daughter’s best friend while the whole house slept.”

His words sent fresh heat flooding through me. I was so close already, the forbidden thrill of Sophia just down the hall amplifying everything. Damien sensed it. He released my mouth only to fist his hand in my hair, yanking my head back so he could devour my neck with teeth and tongue—marking me, claiming me.

“Come for me,” he commanded, thumb finding my clit and circling with ruthless precision. “Come on my cock like the desperate little slut you are for your best friend’s daddy.”

The orgasm hit me like lightning splitting the sky. I shattered around him, biting his shoulder through his shirt to muffle the scream. My body convulsed, walls pulsing around his thickness as pleasure ripped through every nerve. Damien didn’t stop. He fucked me through it, harder, deeper, chasing his own release with low, animalistic grunts.

But he didn’t come inside me.

At the last second, he pulled out with a harsh curse, stroking himself once, twice, before hot ropes of release painted my stomach and breasts. He marked me—claimed me visibly—his chest heaving as he stared down at the mess he’d made with dark, possessive satisfaction.

We stayed like that for long moments, panting, the rain slowly easing outside. Damien rested his forehead against mine, one big hand gently brushing damp strands of hair from my face. The tenderness after the brutality made my chest ache in a way I wasn’t ready for.

“This changes everything,” he murmured, voice raw. “You’re mine now, Ava. My secret. My obsession. But if Sophia finds out—”

A soft knock sounded on the study door.

Not loud. Not hesitant like before. Deliberate.

“Dad?” Sophia’s voice again, clearer this time, right outside. “I heard… noises. Is everything okay? Ava, are you still in there?”

Damien’s body tensed against mine, still half-hard and slick between my thighs. His eyes met mine—dark, feral, full of dangerous promise. His release still glistened on my skin, the scent of us heavy in the air. The door handle began to turn slowly.

He leaned in, lips brushing my ear in a whisper that sent shivers racing down my spine:

“Stay exactly like this—spread open and dripping with my cum… or I’ll open this door and let her see exactly how thoroughly her daddy just ruined you.”