He went still.
I swallowed. “Can you help me?”
The truth slipped out before I could brace, impossible to take back.
His mouth parted. “Are you—”
“Yes,” I whispered. “Yes, I am.”
For a second, neither of us moved.
Then the dominant in him surfaced—low, controlled, unmistakable.
His shoulders squared.
His breath eased.
He pinned me with a look that felt like touch.
And just like that, the weight I’d been holding slipped into his keeping as if it belonged there.
“Emma,” he murmured, the word low, careful, reverent. “It would be my pleasure.”
Chapter 47
***
Damien
Yes.
Yes, I am.
The words a prayer and an offering, lodging somewhere deep in me—sharp, electrifying, and completely unexpected. For a heartbeat, my mind blanked, the world narrowing down to her expression and the tremor in her voice.
She wanted this.
She was asking me.
Not for comfort.
Not for reassurance.
But something only I’d be able to give her.
A shudder moved through her, her fingers still curled lightly in my shirt, like she wasn’t sure if I’d pull away.
Christ.
“Emma.” I lifted her chin, just enough for her to meet my gaze. Vulnerable. Frayed. Held together by sheer force of will. “We need to talk through a few things before we move forward.”
“Okay,” she whispered.
“What you’re asking for—I can do that. But I need to know how you want to get there. Which path you want me to take.”
“Can we do the same thing as last time?” She looked up at me, something hopeful softening the edges of her worry.
My lips pressed together against the truth—the one I knew might sting. I paused, choosing my words with care. “Last time was…” I rubbed the back of my neck, wincing internally. “It wasn’t planned. It wasn’t structured.”
