I wake up in a strange room. It’s large and white with accents of what that one home décor magazine I read calls taupe. I’m in an absolutely massive bed, and my hands rest on the softest sheets I’ve ever felt. There’s a huge TV on the other side of the room, and the walls are made entirely of windows. A long, quilted bench rests at the foot of the bed, and on either side of me are sprawling couches.
On one of them sits Damien.
His head is in his hands and he sits perfectly still, as though he’s been here for a long time. But when he hears me move, makingthe sheets rustle slightly, he looks up quickly, then walks over to me and sits on the edge of the bed.
I can’t find my voice, and he doesn’t speak either at first, only trailing a hand through my hair and down my cheek.
I close my eyes, letting myself drink in the feel of his touch. I never thought I’d be touched by him again.
As his hand trails down over my neck, I actually moan, then blush furiously as the sound escapes me. His hand stills and he chuckles, before reaching down and kissing me on the nose.
“I’ve missed those cute little blushes,” he says in a low voice that makes my stomach clench with need.
He kisses me again, this time on my lips, and I bite down on a whimper of frustration when he withdraws.
But as consciousness fully returns to me, a swirl of thoughts crowds out—momentarily at least—my need for his touch.
He’s still stroking my tangled, matted hair when I manage to lift a heavy hand up to touch my stomach. At once he pins it gently to the bed.
“You’re all fixed up, my pet,” he says. “Take it easy, now. And remind me never to ask you to sew up any of my clothes.”
He smirks at me but I’m too disoriented to understand the joke. Where’s Vale? Wasn’t he hunting me? How was Damien the one to find me? Were he and Vale…?
I still can’t manage a sound, but Damien seems to read my suspicion, and his mouth sets into a grim expression.
“You’re lucky you’re too weak to get punished right now,” he growls. “But the moment you’re better, I’m going to take you over my knee and give you such a walloping…”
He interrupts himself, appearing to notice my confusion and pain. “I guess I do owe you an explanation,” he mutters at last, hishand finding its way once more to my hair. When he goes back to stroking it, I forget all about my suspicions and hurt. I’m lulled into a deep state of relaxation, nearly moaning again as he drags his finger over my hair, my face, my neck. But then he speaks, and his revelation is so shocking I jerk up hard enough that he pins both my arms to the bed.
“I killed Vale.”
I stare up at him, breathing hard, as his hands keep me pressed against the bed.
You killed Vale?
I still can’t speak, but he reads the question in my eyes, and smiles tightly.
“Didn’t have a choice, did I? He was trying to kill you.”
“But… but…” The words leave my throat, sounding loud and weird in my ears, like thick sludge. “He’s been your friend since grade school…”
I find myself quoting the tabloids.
Devil, a corporation made up of five powerful businessmen who’ve been friends since grade school. Friends since grade school… friends since grade school…
The words echo in my mind. I can’t understand it. He killed Vale. His childhood friend. I’ve never had a childhood friend. I would have given anything to have had a childhood friend.
“He was trying to kill you,” he repeats. “Didn’t have a choice.”
He speaks in an abrupt tone, as if trying to mask his pain.
“But I’m not your childhood friend,” I force out, wincing from the pain of talking.
His face relaxes into a smile.
“No, thank God. You’re much better than that. You’re my pet.”
He kisses me again, lightly at first, but it seems to awaken ahunger in him, and he deepens it, his teeth closing in around my lower lip.
