Page 52 of Sticks & Serpents

“Bullshit,” I snapped.

The space between us crackled with intensity as Damien leaned in closer, his voice rougher now. “She meant nothing. You know that.” But I felt the weight of those words like a stone in my stomach. “But you? You keep pretending you’re done with me, and then you do shit like this.”

He closed the distance between us further, looming over me like an impending storm. He stepped so close that I could feel the heat radiating from him—the dangerous edge of his presence wrapping around me like a suffocating embrace.

“I’m not pretending,” he said, voice dropping lower still. It was almost intimate now—dangerously so—and it sent shivers racing down my spine.

I swallowed hard, caught in a maelstrom of emotions that churned within me. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go; this wasn’t where I wanted to be—not pinned against a wall by Damien’s anger and magnetism at once. And yet… something about this chaos felt undeniably familiar—almost intoxicating.

“Damien,” I breathed out, but no further words came as everything hung in that taut moment between us, poised on the edge of disaster.

I stood there, trembling, my heart pounding in my chest. Damien's presence enveloped me like a storm, and the truth of his words crashed over me like waves against a rocky shore. He was right. I didn’t have a defense; every instinct screamed at me to fight back, but all I could do was stare into those stormy blue eyes that held me captive.

His fingers grazed my wrist, where Andrew had grabbed me earlier. The touch sent shockwaves through my body, igniting the fear and confusion swirling inside me. It felt wrong yet familiar—the possessiveness in his grip spoke volumes about how he viewed the world around him.

“You don’t let other men put their hands on what’s mine, Holly.” His voice dripped with authority, each word carving into the space between us.

I glared up at him, anger flaring to life as I fought against the rising tide of emotions. “I’m not yours,” I snapped, desperate to reclaim some semblance of independence even as my insides twisted in contradiction.

Damien’s smirk only deepened, a wicked glint flashing in his eyes. “Liar.”

Before I could respond or even comprehend what was happening, he closed the distance between us with a sudden ferocity. His lips crushed against mine, and I gasped at the overwhelming rush of sensation. The kiss was hard and demanding—possessive in a way that left no room for protest.

My mind raced as I felt myself slipping beneath his spell once again. Every rational thought melted away under the heat of his body pressing into mine, igniting every nerve ending like wildfire. It should have scared me; it did scare me—but instead, it pulled me closer to him.

Chapter16

Damien

My knuckles throbbed, slick with blood and fury. I stood there, breathing hard, the adrenaline still pumping through me like a freight train. The guy was gone now, his pathetic whimper echoing in my mind as he fled out the door. But the anger remained, simmering just beneath the surface.

Holly stayed pressed against the wall, eyes locked onto mine. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, each breath a reminder of how close we had come to crossing a line that neither of us should have even approached. Her gaze burned into me, searing me like a goddamn brand.

I had told myself I’d walk away after this. Let her go. Teach her a lesson about what happens when she plays with fire—when she flirts with guys like him.

But watching her there, framed by the dim light of her home, made that impossible.

Her eyes pierced through me, a storm of fury and confusion. I watched her, muscles taut and coiled, as if she were a tightly wound spring ready to snap.

But the way she looked at me? Like she was furious and wrecked, like she wanted to slap me or pull me closer, made my gut twist in a way I couldn't shake off.

She still fucking wanted me.

It broke something inside. All the bravado I’d held onto—every smirk and careless laugh—fizzled into nothing. The anger that had fueled my actions now turned inward, gnawing at the edges of my resolve. I could feel it clawing up my throat, hot and suffocating.

I stepped toward her slowly, careful not to break the tension that hung between us. Each step felt like a risk, a gamble I wasn’t sure I wanted to take but couldn’t resist.

“Do you want me to let him touch you again?” My voice came out low, dangerously calm, but it didn’t mask the tremor beneath. The truth was raw; I hated seeing her with someone else—even if that someone else had been harmless compared to what I was capable of.

Her jaw tightened at my question, the defiance in her eyes only making the ache in my chest worse.

“I don’t belong to you,” she shot back, fire lighting up her face.

That stung more than any punch I’d taken tonight. But there was something deeper behind her anger—a flicker of uncertainty that mirrored what was raging inside me.

“Doesn’t matter.” My words dripped with something darker as I closed the distance between us further. “You’re not letting anyone else put their hands on you.”

Her breath hitched; for a split second, vulnerability broke through her fierce exterior as she considered what I said. Then it was gone—replaced by that familiar storm again.

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