He chuckles. “Seems like a different lifetime. Hell, it is a different lifetime.”
“And if you ever had a family, you’d do the same for them. You’d make Christmas just as special.”
“I’d try,” he says. “I’d never let them see the darkness inside of me. I’d never let them glimpse it, even. They’d have no idea that while we were laughing and having fun, there’s this kernel of darkness in me. I don’t think it’ll ever go away.”
“But maybe…” I almost stop, not wanting to sound cheesy, but we’ve been through too much for that. “Maybe one day, the light will shine so brightly, even if that kernel’s there, you won’t feel it. Or maybe just in fleeting moments.”
His hand tightens against my back, gathering a thick handful of bathrobe. I’m achingly aware of my nakedness beneath the material. All he’d have to do is push the lapel aside and reveal my breasts.
“Maybe,” he says after a pause, his eyes fixed on mine.
I bite my lip, somehow resisting the urge to kiss him… for now. “Julian mentioned you seem different. He’s never seen you like this before.”
“He said something similar to me when we changed shifts,” Damian says huskily. “Said it was like someone broke me open and put something warm where all the ice was before. I tried to play it off, but he could tell I was bullshitting him. You’ve… you’ve changed me, Celine. Whatever happens, I’ll always be thankful for that.”
I swallow.
Whatever happens…
Meaning: even if Julian forbids us from being together, even if he dies while going after the mob.
I lean in close, almost brushing my lips against his. He turns his face at the last moment so that I brush against his cheek instead. A light layer of stubble rubs roughly against my mouth.
“We shouldn’t do anything until we get his approval,” Damian says, his voice breaking.
“I know,” I whisper.
His hand glides up my back, tangles in my hair. He gently pulls me away, but then I moan, and the sound seems to break him. He groans, staring at me as if he’s trying with everything he has to hold on.
“I need to keep watch,” he growls.
“I know that too.”
He lets out a croak. “Fuck, Celine.”
His lips crash into mine, rough and ready, his hips pumping as his thick manhood grinds through his shorts against the thin bathrobe. His thickness presses against my folds and my clit, sending whirls of desire surging through me.
Our tongues find each other desperately. Our bodies don’t care that our minds are shattered from what we’ve seen and done, don’t care that we could be making this worse with Julian.
All I can feel is the heat swelling inside of me, a ball of hot pleasure-laced fire that burns away any doubt or any other thoughts.
He pushes aside the robe and places his hand against my bare leg.
The kiss breaks off as he lets out a trembling groan of a breath. There’s a lot in that sound: hunger, defeat, obsession.
He stares at me as if silently begging me to stop this somehow… but also like nothing could stop us.
His hand presses firmly against my leg, smoothing higher up my thigh, getting closer and closer to the wetness tingling out of my sex.
“When I touch your soaked slit,” he snarls, “I won’t be able to stop. You’re too beautiful. Too goddamn sexy. Too… you.”
This is the moment where I could, maybe, stop us from going any further. I could tell him we need to think of Julian upstairs. That I’m too traumatized from this absolutely insane day.
But I don’t–I can’t.
I want him, need him in a way I don’t even understand.
“Don’t stop,” I whimper.
