BRIDE OF THE RUTHLESS DEMON

THE TOUCH TEST

Chapter 14: The Touch Test

The snack mission was a huge success. The bag of bright yellow cheese was empty. Damon seemed very happy with his new discovery.

They walked back to his study, bags of chips and cookies in Roxan’s arms. The fake rain sounds were still playing quietly in the background.

Damon sat down at his desk again, but this time, he looked relaxed. He had a little bit of yellow dust on his black uniform. Roxan pointed at it.

“You have a mess on your shirt, King of Order,” she said, trying not to laugh.

Damon looked down at his chest in horror. He brushed at the orange dust fast. “Unacceptable! A stain!”

“It’s just cheese dust,” Roxan said, putting her cookies on the desk. She reached out a hand without thinking and gently wiped a spot of yellow off his cheekbone with her thumb.

The air in the room suddenly changed. It became heavy and very quiet.

Damon froze. He stopped brushing his uniform and looked at Roxan. Her hand was still near his face. The touch was light, but it felt like fire between them.

He was so close. She could see the dark black of his eyes, the hard line of his jaw. The man was a killer, a space monster, but right now, he just looked… surprised. And maybe, just maybe, he wanted more than just quiet and order.

Roxan pulled her hand back quickly, feeling her face get hot. “Sorry. You just had a little—”

Damon reached out and grabbed her wrist. His hand was warm and strong. His touch sent a shock straight up her arm and into her heart.

“You help me with my uniform,” Damon said, his voice low and rough. He didn’t let go of her. “This is the Queen’s duty?”

“Sometimes,” Roxan whispered. She couldn't look away from his eyes. They were locked together in the quiet room.

Damon slowly stood up from his chair. He was very tall. He moved closer to her, still holding her wrist. The space between them disappeared.

“You are strange, Roxan,” he whispered. “You told me to ‘chill’. You fix my machines. You give me strange yellow food. You touch my face.”

“You kidnap me, force me to be your Queen, use war sounds for music, and worry about handwriting,” Roxan said back, a little breathless. “You are also very strange.”

A small, real smile, not the scary shark one, touched Damon’s lips. It made him look less like a demon and more like a man. A very handsome, very dangerous man.

He lifted his free hand and gently pushed a piece of hair away from her face. His touch was careful, almost unsure, which was shocking for the confident King.

He leaned in slowly. Roxan’s heart hammered in her chest. She knew he was the enemy. She knew he had killed her family. But she also felt a pull toward him. She couldn’t stop. The anger and the attraction were fighting hard inside her.

He was asking without asking. He waited for her to push him away. She didn’t.

Damon closed the last bit of space. His lips touched hers.

It was not a soft kiss. It was hard and demanding, like the man himself. It was a kiss of power and confusion. Roxan was shocked by the feeling. It was electric.

She kissed him back, pouring all her anger and confusion into the kiss. Her hands moved up his strong chest, feeling the hard muscles under his uniform.

Damon made a low sound in his throat. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her body tightly against his. He deepened the kiss, his mouth moving on hers with real hunger. This was not about duty or order anymore. This was about need.

Roxan felt a wave of warmth and want rush through her body. She forgot about the ship, the war, the cheese puffs, everything. There was only Damon's mouth on hers, his strong arms holding her tight.

He pulled back just a little bit, resting his forehead against hers. They were both breathing fast.

“This ritual,” Damon said, his voice husky and rough. “It is not inefficient at all.”

Roxan looked up at him, her mind spinning. The monster had kissed her, and she had liked it. A lot.

The little smiling doll was still in its box on the desk nearby, a witness to the complicated, messy start of their strange romance. The line between hate and love had just gotten very, very blurry.