Page 89 of Lethal Devotion
I don’t think I’ve ever come so hard, or so long. It’s still dripping from the tip of my cock when I pull out of her, pearling white at her swollen, slick folds, and I collapse to one side of her on the bed, the handcuffs pinching beneath me as I look at her for a long moment. She’s on her stomach, hair tangled, sweaty, and flushed, and so utterly gorgeous that I can’t imagine ever wanting another woman for the rest of my life.
But this isn’t permanent. It can’t be.
For a few minutes, we just lie there, coming back to earth. I can see her pulse racing in her throat, see the slight tremor in her body as aftershocks roll through her.
I look at her face, and when her eyes open to meet mine, something cold settles in my stomach. There's satisfaction there, yes, and pleasure, but there's something else too. Something that looks dangerously like love.
"That was..." she starts to say, but I cut her off by rolling away from her, knowing that I need to put distance between us. I lost control, and I gave her what she wanted, and now she’s going to think it means something.
Itdidmean something. But she can’t know that.
“I’ve had a long day,” I say quietly. “That was great, Sienna. Quite the surprise. But I’m hungry, and I should shower, and?—”
Her face falls instantly. She shifts toward me, reaching to touch my chest with one hand. “Damian?—”
"This doesn't change anything," I say, the words coming out harsher than I intended. "What just happened between us—it doesn't change the arrangement. You caught me off guard, and I lost control. You got what you wanted, Sienna, but it doesn’t mean that we’re going to keep doing this."
I feel her go still beside me. "What do you mean?" Her voicewobbles slightly, and I know in that moment that I should never, ever have let this go so far.
Now I’m going to hurt her. There’s no way around it. No way for me to keep from breaking some part of her heart, damaging something tender and precious that I swore I would protect. I said I would keep her safe, and now I’m going to be responsible for chipping away at her trust, her gentleness.
I sit up, swinging my legs over the side of the bed and putting distance between us. "I mean, this is still temporary. Once the Russo situation is resolved, we'll discuss dissolving the marriage. And we need to stop doing this, Sienna. Youneedto stay out of my bed. Every time we fuck, this gets more complicated." The words prick at my own heart, opening up a dozen wounds, but I ignore them. I’m used to pain. I can bear it. What I can’t stand is hers. Even if… especially if… I’m the one causing it.
The silence that follows is so complete I can hear my own heartbeat. When I finally turn to look at her, she's sitting up too, her arms wrapped around her chest, and there are tears in her eyes.
"I see," she says quietly.
"Sienna—"
"No, it's fine." But her voice is shaking, and I can see the hurt written all over her face. "I understand. This was just... physical. Nothing more."
She slides off the bed, her fingers digging into her sides, and I want to say something, want to take back the words that put that broken look in her eyes. But I can't. Because getting too attached to her, letting myself believe this could be real—that way lies nothing but pain for both of us. For her, when she realizes that this life is too violent for someone like her, and for me, when I have to let her go all over again, knowing I’ve broken her beyond repair.
"I'm glad we're clear on that," she says, her voice steady now, but distant. "I wouldn't want to make this more complicated than it needs to be."
Sienna. I want to say her name, want to reach for her, to take that sound out of her voice, but I shouldn’t. Ican’t. My pain is the sacrificeI need to make to keep her safe from all of this. She needs those walls up, and I should never have let mine down.
She heads for the door, teeth gnawing at her lower lip, and I know I should let her go, should let her walk away and put some much-needed distance between us. But something in me rebels at the sight of her leaving.
"Sienna, wait—" I curse myself for stopping her as soon as the words come out of my mouth.
She stops with her hand on the door handle, but she doesn't turn around. "What?"
I open my mouth, but no words come. What can I say? That I'm sorry? That I didn't mean it? That the thought of her walking away makes me want to put my fist through the wall? That I want to keep her forever, even if I’d be bringing her into a world she should never have been introduced to in the first place?
"Nothing," I say finally, my heart heavier than it ever has been before. "Never mind."
She nods once, the motion taut and jerky, and then she's gone, the door closing softly behind her.
I sit there on the edge of my bed, naked and still smelling like sex and her perfume, and I wonder what the fuck is wrong with me. I got exactly what I wanted—the most incredible sex of my life with a woman who's proved she’s willing to explore every dark fantasy I've ever had. And then I threw it all away because I was scared of a look in her eyes.
Because I was scared of what that look meant. What it might mean for me. For her. Forus, and her future, and mine.
I go straight for the shower, not wanting to wash her scent off of me and knowing I need to. I need to get myself under control again. Strip the bed of those sheets, order dinner, focus on the mission. Put my temporary wife out of my head. But I can't concentrate on anything excepther. Every few minutes, my mind drifts back to the way Sienna looked tied to my bed, the sounds she made when I was inside her, the hurt in her eyes when I told her it didn't mean anything.
The truth is, it did mean something. Every fucking time I’ve touched her has meant something. And that terrifies me more than any enemy I've ever faced.
The next morning, I avoid the dining room, grabbing coffee and heading straight to my office. I tell myself it's because I have work to do, calls to make, plans to finalize. But really, it's because I can't face seeing Sienna. I can’t handle seeing the hurt in her eyes… or handle seeing her face if there’s no hurt at all, if she’s distant and blank toward me, like she should be.
