Playtime

Chapter 6

Kyra stared at the phone screen, her finger hovering over the “send” button. The text was simple: *“We need to talk.”* She had typed it a dozen times, each time trying to decide if she was truly ready for whatever conversation would follow. She could almost feel Damon’s presence looming over her as she hesitated, a silent force that commanded her attention.

Since their last encounter, a mixture of emotions had gripped her. The kiss had lingered in her mind longer than she was willing to admit, its intensity pulling her back into a vortex of desire and doubt. She had tried to push the memory away, but it was impossible. Damon’s touch had been both tender and commanding—two things she should have run from, yet couldn’t escape. It was as if he held a part of her that she didn’t know existed, a part that yearned for him despite every rational thought telling her to walk away.

The phone buzzed, cutting through her thoughts. Her heart skipped a beat as she saw the name flash across the screen. **Damon Vassallo**.

She inhaled sharply before answering.

“Kyra,” his voice was smooth, with that unmistakable undertone of authority. “I knew you’d call. I didn’t expect it to take this long, but I’ll take what I can get.”

She bit her lip, frustration building. He always seemed so confident, so sure of himself. It was as if he knew everything, including her thoughts and desires. And despite herself, she found it infuriating. She wanted to be the one in control. She wanted to be the one who made the decisions, who wasn’t swayed by his charm or his commanding presence.

“I’m not calling because I want to,” she said, her voice tinged with defensiveness. “I need to talk. There are things we need to clear up.”

Damon’s silence on the other end made her uneasy. She could almost hear the smirk in his voice when he finally spoke. “Go ahead, then. What do you want to clear up?”

Kyra hesitated. Her mind raced as she tried to find the right words to express everything she was feeling. How could she explain the turmoil inside her? How could she make him understand that she wasn’t some pawn in his game?

“I don’t know what’s happening between us,” she said finally, her voice softer than she intended. “I don’t know if I’m just another conquest to you or if there’s something more to this.”

There was a brief pause before Damon spoke again, and when he did, his voice was low and controlled, with an edge of something she couldn’t quite place. “You’re not just a conquest, Kyra. I don’t waste my time on things that don’t matter.” He sighed as if considering something. “But I’m not going to pretend I’m some perfect knight in shining armor either. You already know who I am, and you’ve felt what I’m capable of.”

“I don’t need you to explain yourself,” she snapped, frustration bubbling up again. “I just need to understand where we stand. I need to understand why you keep pulling me in, and then pushing me away.”

There was a long silence this time, and for a brief moment, Kyra wondered if he had hung up. But then he spoke again, his voice gentler, yet no less intense.

“I’m not pushing you away,” he said quietly. “I’ve never wanted to push you away. The problem, Kyra, is that you don’t want to understand what we are. You keep fighting it.”

“I’m not fighting it,” she shot back. “I’m just trying to figure out if I’m willing to lose myself in this—*in you*.”

A soft laugh escaped Damon’s lips, though there was no humor in it. “Lose yourself? Kyra, you haven’t even begun to understand what it means to lose yourself in me.”

The way he said it made her shiver. She wanted to argue, to tell him that she wasn’t some object to be possessed, but his words had cut through her defenses like a knife. She knew, deep down, that he was right. She was already losing herself. Every moment she spent in his presence, every conversation, every touch—she was slipping further and further under his spell.

She swallowed hard, trying to regain control. “I don’t know if I can keep doing this,” she said, her voice trembling despite her best efforts to sound resolute. “This… whatever this is between us. It’s too much. I don’t know how to handle it.”

“You don’t have to handle it, Kyra,” Damon said, his voice softening. “You just have to give in.”

His words were like a spark, igniting a fire within her. She wanted to resist, to pull away, but every instinct inside her screamed to do the opposite. To lean into him, to give in to the pull that had been growing stronger since the moment they met.

She closed her eyes, her hand tightening around the phone. “I’m not some puppet you can control,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “I won’t let you make me feel like I’m powerless.”

Damon’s voice dropped even lower, almost a growl. “I’m not trying to control you, Kyra. I’m trying to make you see the truth. The truth is, you’re already mine. And you can keep fighting it, but that won’t change anything.”

The statement hung in the air like a weight. Kyra could feel the tension building between them, thick and suffocating. She wanted to deny it, to tell him that she was still in control of her life, but a part of her knew the truth. Damon had become an inescapable part of her existence, and no matter how hard she tried to fight it, she couldn’t shake the way he made her feel.

“I don’t know how to handle this,” she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper.

Damon’s tone shifted again, softer now, almost understanding. “You don’t have to handle it, Kyra. Just let go. Let me take control for once. Let me show you what it means to truly surrender.”

She took a deep breath, her mind racing. Was she ready for this? Was she ready to let go of her control, to surrender to Damon completely? The idea terrified her, but at the same time, it exhilarated her. She could feel herself being pulled toward him, as if there was no way out.

“I don’t know if I can,” she whispered.

“You can,” Damon assured her, his voice filled with a quiet confidence. “You just have to trust me.”

Trust him. The words echoed in her mind, and for a moment, she wondered if she was capable of that. Could she trust Damon, the man who had already proven he could break her down, piece by piece? Could she let him into the most vulnerable parts of her soul?

She didn’t have an answer. But as she stared out the window, watching the world go by, she realized something. She didn’t need to have the answer right now. All she had to do was take the first step.

And the first step, it seemed, was already behind her.

Certainly! Here’s the continuation of Chapter 6:

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Kyra stood in her apartment, the weight of the conversation hanging in the air, making her feel as though she were standing on the edge of something far greater than herself. The phone had gone silent after Damon’s last words, leaving her alone with her thoughts. The pull between them was undeniable, but that didn’t mean she knew how to handle it. The thought of surrendering to Damon’s will was terrifying, yet the thrill of the idea lingered in her veins, like a dangerous, sweet poison.

She paced the room, trying to collect her thoughts. The more she thought about what Damon had said, the more she realized how deep the connection between them had become. It wasn’t just physical; it was something more—a dark, magnetic force that she couldn’t escape. Every part of her wanted to push him away, to regain control of her life. But her body, her very soul, seemed to be betraying her, drawn to him in a way she couldn’t explain.

Her phone buzzed again, interrupting her thoughts. She didn’t even need to check the screen to know who it was. Damon.

Her pulse spiked. She debated letting it ring, ignoring him just like she had before. But the pull was too strong. With a steadying breath, she answered.

“Kyra,” his voice came through, smooth and commanding as ever, “I’m on my way.”

Her heart skipped a beat, and her mind raced. “What do you mean, you’re on your way?”

“I’m coming to you,” he replied simply, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “You said you wanted to talk. Now you’ll see for yourself what happens when you stop fighting it.”

Kyra’s breath caught in her throat. She hadn’t expected him to come over, hadn’t expected things to move this quickly. The realization hit her like a freight train. She hadn’t been prepared for this—hadn’t been prepared to face the man who had invaded her life in ways she couldn’t control. And yet, a part of her couldn’t wait to see him.

“Damon, wait—” she started to say, but before she could finish, the line went dead.

She stared at the phone in her hand, the cold silence pressing in on her. What had she done? Why had she invited this storm into her life? She didn’t know, but she also couldn’t bring herself to regret it.

Moments later, the doorbell rang, pulling her from her thoughts. The sound echoed through the apartment, loud and insistent. She swallowed hard, her heart thudding in her chest as she slowly made her way to the door. The weight of the decision now felt even heavier than before, but she couldn’t turn back.

With a shaking hand, she opened the door, and there he was. Damon Vassallo. Standing in the doorway, wearing that smirk of his—equal parts confident and predatory. His presence seemed to fill the entire room, pushing out everything else.

“You didn’t think I’d just leave you hanging, did you?” Damon’s voice was like velvet, smooth and low, wrapping around her.

Kyra swallowed, her mind a whirlwind of emotions. “I didn’t think you’d show up.”

“Then you don’t know me very well, Kyra,” he replied, stepping closer, his gaze never leaving hers.

She could feel the heat radiating from him, and for a brief moment, the world outside her apartment seemed to fade away. It was just him, just them—locked in a magnetic pull that neither of them seemed capable of escaping.

“Damon…” She didn’t know what she wanted to say, didn’t know how to put her thoughts into words. Her heart raced as he stepped into her space, his eyes dark with an intensity that made her breath catch in her throat.

He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. His actions spoke louder than any words ever could. Damon reached out, brushing a lock of her hair away from her face with a gentleness that was almost at odds with the raw power he exuded. His touch was a promise, a silent command.

Kyra’s pulse quickened, the heat rising in her chest. She wanted to resist, wanted to pull away. But the need to be close to him, to feel his presence, overwhelmed her. Before she knew it, she was stepping toward him, closing the distance between them.

Damon’s gaze darkened as he took a step closer, his hand cupping the side of her face. “You’re not going to fight it anymore, are you?” His words were low, almost a growl, and they sent a shiver down her spine.

“I—” Kyra tried to speak, but the words died in her throat as he leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear. The sensation of his breath against her skin was enough to make her knees weak.

“You’re mine, Kyra,” he whispered, his voice filled with dark promise. “And I’m done waiting.”

Before she could respond, his lips captured hers in a kiss that was both demanding and possessive. It was like a spark igniting, an explosion of heat and desire. His hands were everywhere—on her back, her waist, pulling her closer to him. There was no hesitation in his touch, no second thoughts. He was taking what he wanted, and in that moment, Kyra realized she didn’t want to stop him.

Her body responded immediately, her hands moving to the hem of his shirt, tugging it up to feel the heat of his skin beneath her fingertips. Damon didn’t break the kiss. Instead, he deepened it, his tongue claiming hers with a hunger that matched her own.

When he pulled back, he was breathing heavily, his eyes dark and intense. “I told you,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re mine.”

Kyra’s heart raced, her breath shallow. She was lost—completely consumed by the man standing in front of her. There was no fight left in her, no resistance. She had already given in, and now, there was no turning back.

Damon stepped back slightly, his eyes scanning her face as if he were memorizing every detail. “You’re scared,” he said, his tone softening just a touch. “But you’re not running.”

Kyra swallowed, her mind reeling. “I don’t know if I can handle this,” she admitted, her voice shaking.

“You don’t have to handle anything,” Damon replied, his hand brushing along her jawline. “Just let me take care of it.”

The promise in his voice was both comforting and terrifying. But as his hand slid down her arm, resting at her waist, Kyra knew she was already too far gone to walk away.

With a steady breath, she nodded, the last of her resistance slipping away.

“Okay,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Damon smiled, a slow, predatory grin that sent a thrill of fear—and excitement—through her. “Good.”