Page 22 of Reflections of Peonies
Instantly, his scorching expression vanished, and he pulled away. I hid my inflamed face in my knees as Damen went to speak to someone outside the room once more.
I’d only just gotten my breath under control when the scent of food drifted toward me.
I peeked up to see Damen seated at the foot of the bed. A covered tray rested on a small cart beside me. I had been so flustered I hadn’t even noticed him wheel it into the room.
I frowned at the tray. “What’s this?”
“Lunch,” Damen said, his expression guarded—a stark difference from a moment ago. “I know you haven’t been eating.”
That explained how long I’d been asleep; there was no good way to tell time here. It did not surprise me that Damen would try to feed me prison food.
“I’m not hungry,” I said.
Damen’s lips thinned as he studied me over his glasses. There was an appraising glint in his eyes. “You need to eat. I know you like food, and I won’t sneak you in snacks like Julian. He’s been coddling you too much.”
“Who doesn’t like food?” I retorted, hoping my face wasn’t as red as it felt. “And don’t say that. Julian doesn’t coddle me.”
“There’s a difference between coddling and being encouraging, and he’s blurring that line.” Damen was frowning, his steel eyes seeing right through me. “He’s afraid to push you right now, but don’t get used to it. He won’t always be like this. He knows he’s wrong, and he has a limit. Meanwhile, someone with some sense needed to come here and make you eat.”
I gasped. He was so wrong. “You can’t make me eat!” I told him. “You don’t know what they’re doing to it. I’d rather die than eat poison!”
The words were barely spoken before Damen was in front of me. He grabbed my wrists, pulling me closer to him. Gone was the calculating look in his eyes, panic in its place.
“Don’t joke about that,” he said, his words jilted.
“I’m not joking.” I tried to pull my wrists away, but his grip didn’t let up. It should have scared me, but his pushiness made me angrier. “It’s not any of your business if I die or not.Youcan’t make me do anything I don’t want.”
The banked fury in Damen’s eyes flared to life, and he released my hands only to grab my shoulders instead. “It’s not my business?” he asked. There was something powerful in his voiceI’d never heard before. But instead of scaring me, the sound caused my toes to curl.
“It is my business!” he continued. “You’re the most important person in my world. You always have been. I would be completely destroyed if something were to happen to you. You need to take care of yourself.”
I knew his words had a deeper meaning, but it escaped me. All I could focus on was his hands—large and hot against my skin. I was suddenly urged to do something about it, but I had no idea what. Frustration pooled in my stomach.
I didn’t care who was mad at me anymore. I was tired. Tired of everyone taking away my choices. Tired of everyone telling me what to do. And I wassotired of people lying to me.
“Don’t tell me what to do.” I could scarcely breathe.
I had to do something. I needed to touch him. I didn’t second-guess myself and grabbed the front of his shirt. The fabric bunched in my fists, Damen’s furious expression fell, and the tension in his arms lessened, but it was too late. I didn’t care anymore.
And before I could talk myself out of it, I took advantage of his surprise to jerk him to me.
5
I never hada real kiss before. I wasn’t just referring to the physical crashing of lips, but rather something warm, comforting, and intimate. And for a second, I thought this might be it.
But then again, I wasn’t even sure if one could classify my attack as a kiss, either.
The truth was, I’d attacked Damen, desperate for something just out of reach. Even the feeling of his hard chest under my fingers hadn’t been enough to satisfy these urges. Such a direct response had been the only solution.
But the instant his soft lips met mine, my actions shocked me into immobility. Because it couldn’t be denied that, in my anger, I had molested him.
This was the worst, but it was also the best feeling ever.
This experience was both strange and exciting, even though, as the awkward seconds passed, my partner did not respond. But just as I was about to withdraw and apologize profusely and with great repentance, Damen sprang to life.
His scent surrounded me as he pressed forward. His mouthmoved over mine as he took control and turned it against me. His response rekindled my desire, and I needed to touch him.
His hair was soft and silky under my fingertips, and his arms were rigid. This time, I didn’t hesitate, and when Damen pushed me to the mattress, not breaking his mouth from mine, I was lost.
