The Billionaire's Forced Bride

Burning Desire

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Burning Desire

Damian’s POV

I walked slowly into the penthouse, exhaustion heavy on me like a great cloak. The day had been inconsiderably brutal...back-to-back compulsory meetings, endless negotiations, and of course, the usual chaos that comes from running a billion-dollar empire. But none of that could be compared to the trouble that had been brewing intensively inside me for weeks.

As I bent to set my briefcase down and get my tie loosened, I quickly glanced around the living room. It was strangely quiet, too quiet, the kind of silence that made my thoughts louder than it should be.

Pouring myself rather a glass of whiskey to calm my nerves, I caught movement from the corner of my eye. I spurned around and saw her...Amara...standing just on the balcony. The sliding doors were left ajar, and the soft menacing glow of the city lights incredibly framed her silhouette like a painting.

She looked so... so... so ethereal.

Her loose soft curls danced gently to the sound of the evening breeze, and her one crime; wearing a simple dress which clung to her figure in a way that made my throat form lumps. She was leaning absentmindedly against the railing, gazing out at the city, completely unaware of how she made my world stand still.

I should have controlled myself and walked away. I had been doing everything in my power to keep my distance, to remind myself that this arrangement was nothing more than a necessity and would amount to nothing if pushed forward. But unfortunately, my feet moved of their own accord, carrying me mercilessly toward her.

She spurned around as I stepped onto the balcony, her eyes lighting up involuntarily when she saw me. “You’re finally home,” she said softly, her voice obviously carrying a hint of relief.

“Amara,” I acknowledged, my hushed tone now clipped. I couldn’t permit myself to soften, not with her, not any time soon.

“I need to discuss something with you,” she began, wringing her hands in nervous manner. Her voice shaking slightly, and I could tell whatever she had in mind had her unsettled. “Victor dropped by earlier, and he...”

Her words faded abruptly into the background as my gaze landed on her lips. They moved as she spoke softly, succulent, full, and utterly captivating and intriguing. I knew I should be focusing on what she was saying...God knows she always had the best of news, something very vital to share...but I couldn’t. I'm sorry.

I’d been denying myself a whole lot for weeks, f**lishly building a wall of indifference between us, and of course, doing a bad job at convincing myself it was for the best. Love was meant for only fools. I had managed to tell myself that more than a thousand times. But at that moment, as I stood before her, nothing else mattered.

I rushed her, closed the distance between us in just two steps, my hands trembling, reaching up to cup her face. Her words disappeared, her eyes widening in shock.

“Damian, what exactly are you...”

I silenced her immediately with the only way I knew how.

I kissed her hard.

It wasn’t gentle or restrained as you might think...it was pure raw, desperate, like a man who has been drowning all through his life, and finding air for the first time. Her lips were soft, warm, and had a little taste of the tea she must have been drinking earlier.

For a brief moment, she froze, her hands braced involuntarily against my broad chest. But then she melted wholly into me, her fingers gripping my shirt as she kissed me back with equal fervency.

The world around us vanished. All the doubts, the fears, the walls I foolishly built...they all came crumbling in an instant. My hands slid possessively to her waist, pulling her even closer as the kiss deepened.

When we finally broke apart to stare at each other, we were both out of air. Her cheeks were flushed ref, her lips slightly swollen cutely, and her wide eyes were a mixture of shock, but there was something else I couldn’t quite place.

“Damian,” she whispered almost to herself, her voice shaky.

I moved back, running a hand through my hair as reality hit me that instant. What the h*ll was I thinking?

“That... shouldn’t have in any way happened,” I muttered as reality hit me, and I couldn't face her, so I turned my back to her.

“Shouldn’t what have happened?” she asked, her voice filled with disbelief as she vibrated. “You kissed me fervently, Damian!”

“I know about that, spare me the details,” I snapped, anger bubbling to the surface...not really at her, but at myself for being weak. “It was a big mistake.”

“A big mistake?” Her tone rose, and the hurt that followed it could be heard vibrating. “You didn’t pause to think hard about it if it was a mistake when...”

“I don’t intend talking about it,” I cut her off before she cut finish, my voice very harsh.

I turned my back to her as I walked inside, leaving her all by herself standing there. But as I stepped the living room, I couldn’t find the strength to keep going. I stopped, gripping the back of the couch in the living as guilt washed over me, for being unfair.

She don't deserve any of this harshness...my coldness, my inability to make a decision, to figure out my own damn unstable emotions. She is still carrying my child, and for God’s sake, I shouldn't be here, doing everything possible to push her away at every turn.

But how could I, Sebastian Knight let her in? How could I bring myself down and admit that she mattered to me more than anyone ever had, that she had touched me where no one had ever dared come close to? I had spent my entire life avoiding love, this isn't because I don't fancy it, but I had watched it destroy people, turned big names into shadows of who they were. I couldn’t dance to that tone, to let that happen to me.

Yet, as I stood there, despite the war brewing inside if me, I could still sense the taste of her on my lips, I knew even before starting that I was fighting a losing battle.

My mind reflected back to the way she looked at me, the way she responded to my kisses, fervently capturing my lips without hesitation. She wasn’t like other women, like those I could keep at arm’s length. She was my Amara...fierce, dangerously beautiful, and maddeningly unpredictable.

And I was falling helplessly for her.

“Damian?” Came her voice from behind me, hesitant but laced with determination.

I turned to face her as she stood in the doorway, her arms crossed over her heaving chest. She looked vulnerable, yet the fire in her eyes was menacing, it was an indication that she was not ready to let go of this.

“What exactly were you expecting me to say, Amara?” I asked, my voice softer this time unlike me.

“The very truth,” she said simply. “Why are bent on pushing me away? Why do you keep acting like you care, like I mattered to you one moment and then shut me out entirely the next minute?”

I opened my mouth to respond, but shame could not allow me, the words refused coming out. How am I going to tell her that the very thing I was pretending not to want, was the thing I wanted most?

Instead, I replied, “I’m not the man you have in your imagination that I am.”

She furrowed her brows in confusion. “What’s that really supposed to mean?”

“It means...” I trailed off, shaking my head, unable to say the words. “It means I’m doing you a favor, trying to protect you. From no one else but me. From this entanglement.”

She took a step closer to me, her gaze still intense and unwavering. “I don’t need your protection, Damian. I just need honesty.”

I turned away, not able to meet her gaze. “This conversation is over as far as I am concerned.”

But as I walked away, every step that I took felt heavier, like I was willingly leaving behind the one thing that could make me happy and whole. How will this game end?