CRUEL OBSESSION

Chapter twenty-nine

Chapter 29

The kiss lingered in the air long after their lips parted, as though the walls themselves held the echo of it.

Sienna’s chest heaved as she tried to steady her breath. Damien hadn’t let go of her wrist yet, his grip ironclad, like if he released her she’d slip away again. His eyes—those stormy, unrelenting eyes—were locked on her with an intensity that made her spine tingle.

She should’ve pushed him away. She should’ve reminded him of everything—of his cruelty, his coldness, his warning that this marriage was nothing but a contract. But her lips still burned from his, and her body betrayed her by leaning into the heat of him.

Damien broke the silence first, his voice low and rough. “You think you can test me, provoke me, and walk away untouched?”

Her chin lifted, though her pulse pounded. “You kissed me back.”

Something dangerous flickered in his expression, but it wasn’t anger—it was something far more unsettling. Desire.

He tugged her closer, so close she felt the steady beat of his heart beneath the expensive fabric of his shirt. “I should walk away right now,” he murmured, his lips grazing her temple, “but you make it impossible.”

Her breath hitched, and she hated that he could hear it. “Then maybe you should.”

The words were brave, but her body betrayed her again—her hands had fisted in his shirt, holding on when she should’ve been pushing him off.

Damien gave a low, humorless laugh. “You don’t want me to.”

The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken truths. His thumb brushed against the inside of her wrist—barely a touch, but it was enough to send shivers racing through her veins.

Sienna swallowed, fighting the lump in her throat. “You can’t keep doing this. You can’t keep acting like I’m nothing one moment, and—” her voice cracked, but she forced herself to finish—“and kissing me like this the next.”

For once, Damien didn’t have a sharp reply waiting. His gaze softened, almost imperceptibly, as though her words had struck deeper than she knew. He looked away for the briefest second, jaw tight, before dragging his eyes back to hers.

“You don’t understand what you’re asking of me,” he said, his tone raw, stripped of its usual armor.

“Then explain it to me,” she whispered.

He stared at her, long and hard, like he was debating whether to let her glimpse the man beneath the mask. For Damien Valerius, control was everything. Power, reputation, fear—that was what kept him alive. To let someone in was to risk everything. And yet here she was, this woman who should’ve been nothing more than a pawn, looking at him like he wasn’t the monster everyone else believed him to be.

And he hated how much he wanted her to keep looking.

Instead of answering, Damien leaned down, brushing his lips across her jaw, his voice barely audible against her skin. “Be careful what you wish for, Sienna. I don’t give explanations. I take. And once I take…” His teeth grazed the delicate line of her throat, making her shiver. “…I don’t let go.”

Her fingers tightened in his shirt, pulling him closer instead of pushing him away. “Then maybe I don’t want you to let go.”

The words slipped out before she could stop them, and Damien froze. His grip on her wrist slackened, his hand falling away as though her confession had burned him. For a heartbeat, she thought he would leave, retreat back into his fortress of silence.

But then he cupped her face in both hands, forcing her to look at him. His eyes burned with something unrecognizable—fury, hunger, vulnerability all tangled together.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” he said, his voice hoarse.

“So are you,” she shot back.

And just like that, his lips were on hers again, fiercer this time, hungrier. The kiss wasn’t careful or hesitant—it was consuming. Every ounce of his restraint snapped, and Sienna felt it in the way his hands slid into her hair, the way he pressed her against the edge of the desk like he couldn’t get close enough.

Her pulse raced as she melted into him, her body answering the call of his without hesitation. The study spun around them, forgotten. For the first time in weeks, silence wasn’t their weapon. Passion was.

When he finally pulled away, both of them gasping for breath, Damien rested his forehead against hers.

“This—” he breathed, his voice breaking on the word. “This was never supposed to happen.”

Sienna searched his face, her chest aching at the war raging behind his eyes. “Then stop fighting it.”

For once, Damien didn’t answer. He just kissed her again, softer this time, as though surrendering—if only for a moment.