Page 47 of Watch Me Burn
The question catches me off guard. How does he know? How could he possibly suspect?
“No.” The lie is necessary, but it still leaves an acrid taste in my mouth. How can I explain my wolf to him? He’ll think I’m crazy. Or worse, he’ll think I’m a whore who lets a man press her against his windows and devour her while she lets masked strangers into her bed.
Disappointment returns to his eyes—sharp and knowing—and for a moment, I think he sees straight through my deception. But he just nods, steps back, and allows me to straighten my dress.
“I’ll take you home. Let me call the pilot.”
He pulls his phone out of his pocket and walks toward the kitchen as I smooth my dress. My legs still tremble, my body humming with the echoes of the intenseclimax he gave me. I bear his mark now, invisible to anyone else but undeniable to me, and the realization sends another sharp pang of regret through me.
I’m already claimed.
What will my wolf do when he comes to me tonight? How will he punish me? Because he will.
Part of me wants him to. Part of me anticipates the rough, jealous sex that might follow if he discovers my betrayal. But another part of me is afraid. His possessiveness has always excited me before, but there’s an edge to it sometimes that still terrifies me.
Damien returns to where I stand by the window. “The pilot will be ready in ten minutes.” His composure is back in place, his desire contained, though I can still see the bulge in his tailored pants. “Can I get you anything while we wait?”
“No, thank you. I’m fine.”
He nods, keeping his distance. The air between us is charged with everything neither of us will voice. With the pleasure he gave me and the pleasure I’m denying him. The tension becomes unbearable.
“I should use your bathroom before we go.”
“Of course. Down the hall. First door on the right.”
I splash cold water on my cheeks, trying to clear my head. My reflection in the mirror tells the story of the night. My lips swollen from Damien’s kisses, my hair a mess, my eyes still dark with residual desire. I look thoroughly debauched, and we didn’t even make it to his bedroom.
What the hell am I doing?
The hunger in Damien’s eyes demolishes every defense I’ve built, and the terrifying truth is that I want to let him take me to bed. But my wolf haunts every breath I take.
The guilt sits on my chest like a boulder, crushing the air from my lungs. Tears gather behind my eyes, hot and accusing. I let Damien’s hands and mouth giveme the pleasure I reserve only for my wolf. I gave him pieces of myself that belong to another man—a man whose face remains a mystery but whose touch I crave like oxygen.
I swipe my fingertips beneath my eyes, catching the moisture before it can fall. When did I become this person? This woman who kneels for a shadow, who gives her body to someone who won’t even show her his eyes? But the bitter voice in my head whispers back. What right does he have to my fidelity when he hides behind metal and refuses to let me know him?
The thought of him discovering tonight’s betrayal sends electricity racing down my spine—part terror, part thrill.
When I return to the main room, Damien is still standing by the window, staring out at the snow. He turns as I approach, holding out my coat, helping me into it. The heat of his body presses against my back, and the warmth of his breath stirs the hair at my nape. Hunger still pulses from him in waves, making the air between us electric with anticipation.
“Ready?”
I nod. As we step into the elevator, I catch his reflection in the polished doors. He’s watching me with that same intensity as before, his eyes dark and hungry. But that anger still lingers there too.
It sends a shiver through me, and not entirely of fear. In that moment, he looks so much like my wolf that I almost gasp. The way his jaw clenches, the way his eyes narrow, the barely contained violence in his posture.
But that’s insane. It’s just my guilty conscience playing tricks on me. It has to be.
The elevator doors slide open onto the helipad, where the snow is falling harder now.
“Watch your step.” He helps me navigate the slippery surface, guiding me to the waiting helicopter.
“Is it safe to fly back?”
“I’d never put you in danger, Luna.”
I’m aware of his strength as he steadies me, his arm wrapping around my waist when I slip. For a brief moment, I’m pressed against the solid wall of his chest, and the memory of what just happened in his penthouse sends a fresh wave of heat and remorse through me.
“Thank you.” The wind whipping across the rooftop swallows my voice.
