~Bianca's POV~
Twenty minutes.
That's how long I paced in that damn dining room: barefoot, furious, and splintering apart from the inside out.
I couldn't stop replaying it. His mouth. His voice. My body.
Why had I reacted like that?
Why was I still aching for him?
Still slick after everything he'd done?
I was disgusting.
I blamed the red room. I blamed the trauma. I blamed the fact that Nathan hadn't touched me in so long that maybe my body had forgotten what safe pleasure felt like. This wasn't about Damien.
Couldn't be.
It was just nerves. Confusion. Residual heat.
Or at least, that was the lie I wrapped around myself like a blanket.
Eventually, I stormed back to my room and got dressed in a plain blouse, dark jeans, and a neutral jacket. No jewelry. Nothing too feminine. I d
