Playtime

Chapter 5

The soft buzz of her phone was the first sound that broke the silence. Kyra had been staring at the blank wall of her apartment for what felt like an eternity, lost in the disarray of her thoughts. Her heart was a battlefield, torn between what was right and what she wanted. But there was no escaping the gnawing desire that Damon had awakened within her—an attraction that was as consuming as it was dangerous.

She picked up her phone, her hands still trembling slightly as she saw the name flashing across the screen.

**Damon Vassallo**

Her pulse quickened. She had tried to push him out of her thoughts, to distance herself from the magnetic pull that had drawn her to him. But it was like trying to stop the tide with her bare hands. Impossible.

She let the phone ring twice before she answered, her voice steady, though she could feel the tremor of uncertainty beneath it.

“What do you want, Damon?”

“Don’t be coy with me, Kyra,” his voice came through, smooth and commanding as ever. “You know exactly why I’m calling.”

Kyra sighed, leaning back against the couch, trying to steady her breathing. “What do you want me to say?” she asked, her voice tinged with frustration. “That you’ve completely ruined me? That I can’t get you out of my head?”

She heard the faintest chuckle on the other end of the line. “I’m glad to hear it,” he replied, his voice dark and assured. “Because I’m not done with you yet. In fact, I’m far from finished.”

Kyra’s eyes fluttered shut as his words hit her like a wave crashing against the shore. The truth was, she didn’t want him to be done with her. Every part of her body screamed for him—though her mind screamed louder to run, to walk away. But Damon wasn’t the kind of man to let someone walk away easily. And somewhere deep inside, she wasn’t sure if she even wanted to anymore.

“Damon…” Her voice cracked slightly, and she hated the vulnerability in it. “I don’t know what to do with this. With you. With us.”

“Then stop thinking,” he replied, his voice lowering, almost dangerously. “Just feel.”

There was a long pause on the line, and for a moment, Kyra felt suspended in time, caught between two worlds—one where she walked away from everything, and one where she let Damon pull her into his world, a world she knew was as dark as it was intoxicating.

“I’ll be waiting for you,” Damon added, his tone shifting slightly, almost teasing, but beneath it, there was a promise. A challenge. “If you want to see me again, come to me. You know where to find me.”

Before she could respond, the line went dead. Kyra sat there, staring at the phone in her hand. The weight of his words hung in the air. He wasn’t asking for her to come. He was commanding her. And that, more than anything, made her hesitate.

---

The hours that followed felt like a blur. Kyra couldn’t focus on anything. She couldn’t shake the memory of Damon’s voice, that soft challenge in it, the way it made her feel as though she was standing on the edge of a cliff, looking down into a black abyss. And yet, she wasn’t scared.

The conflict in her was more profound. Her life had always been in her own hands, controlled, ordered. Damon had turned all that upside down. With him, there were no rules, no guarantees. Just the raw pull of desire, the need to surrender. It terrified her.

But what terrified her more was how much she wanted to give in.

---

The following day, Kyra found herself back at Vassallo Enterprises. Her heart pounded in her chest as she stepped into the sleek, cold elevator that would take her to Damon’s office. The same elevator that she had taken countless times before, but today it felt different. Every part of her felt exposed, vulnerable, even as her mind screamed at her to turn around.

When the doors slid open, she almost expected to turn back. But her feet betrayed her. She walked down the corridor, her steps echoing in the otherwise silent hallway. As she approached Damon’s office, she could feel the weight of the decision that loomed over her.

She knocked on the door.

“Come in.”

Kyra hesitated for only a second before she pushed the door open. Damon stood by his desk, his back turned to her. His broad shoulders were rigid, his presence as imposing as ever, but there was something different in the air. Something heavier. A tension that crackled between them like static electricity.

He didn’t turn around at first. He didn’t have to. He knew she was there. The power in the room had shifted, and Kyra could feel it in her bones.

“I didn’t expect you to show up,” Damon said, his voice low, almost curious.

Kyra swallowed, her hands gripping the strap of her purse tighter than she intended. “I don’t know why I did,” she admitted, the honesty slipping out before she could stop it.

Damon’s head tilted slightly, as if considering her words. Then, without warning, he turned to face her. His gaze was intense, piercing through her like he could see every thought she was having, every doubt, every fear.

“You’re scared of me,” he said, taking a step forward. His voice wasn’t accusatory, just a statement of fact.

Kyra met his gaze, refusing to look away. “And you’re not scared of me?”

A small, almost imperceptible smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “I don’t scare easily.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” she asked, her voice suddenly sharp.

“No,” he replied smoothly. “But it should make you understand that I don’t play games, Kyra. If I want something, I take it. And right now, I want you.”

The words were like a shock to her system. Every inch of her body reacted to the intensity of his declaration, her pulse quickening, her breath catching in her throat.

“I’m not some toy for you to use,” she said, though even she wasn’t sure if she was trying to convince him—or herself.

Damon stepped closer, his proximity overwhelming. “No,” he murmured, “You’re not a toy, Kyra. You’re so much more than that.” His hand reached out, lightly brushing a strand of hair from her face. “But you’ve been mine since the moment we met.”

Kyra’s breath caught in her throat at his touch. She wanted to pull away, to fight back against the overwhelming pull he had on her. But the truth was, she didn’t want to. Not really.

He tilted her chin up gently, forcing her to look at him. “You can fight this all you want,” he whispered, his lips barely grazing hers, “but we both know you won’t be able to. And deep down, you don’t want to.”

Kyra’s heart pounded in her chest as she closed her eyes. She wanted to push him away, wanted to scream at him for taking control of her emotions, of her body. But when he kissed her—slowly, deliberately—those thoughts faded. Everything faded except for him.

The kiss was unlike any other. It was a promise and a challenge. It was raw and intense, full of unspoken words, emotions, and desires that neither of them could articulate. She couldn’t remember when she had stopped fighting. Maybe it had been the moment she stepped into his office. Or maybe it had been when he first walked into her life.

But in that kiss, there was no more hesitation. There was no more fear. There was just them—lost in a moment that neither of them could deny.