DADDY'S LITTLE VIRGIN:BEGS FOR HIS RUIN

WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?

Chapter 9

Sammy's POV

The high of my petty revenge lasted for exactly three seconds after the music faded out.

As the crowd erupted into loud applause, the sudden crash of reality hit me hard.

Desmond politely took my hand, bowing his head with a charming smile as he thanked me for the dance.

He was completely clueless. He had absolutely no idea about the silent, toxic war that had just played out right over his shoulder.

I forced one last fake smile for him, but my heart was beating so violently against my ribs I could barely breathe. It felt like a heavy drum was going off in my chest.

I immediately turned my head to look back at the main head table, my eyes scanning the seats. My stomach dropped into a cold, hollow pit.

His chair was empty. Damien was gone.

Panic seized my chest. I didn't wait around for my mother to catch me, and I didn't look for Mimi.

I picked up the heavy skirt of my emerald green dress and practically ran off the floor. I needed to get away from the noise, away from the flashing cameras, and away from the suffocating weight of what I had just done.

I rushed down the long corridor of the luxury hotel, my heels clicking sharply against the floor until I saw the sign for the ladies' restroom.

This hotel was grand, the kind of place that cost a fortune to book. My family had money, sure, but the Kanes had bastard money—the kind of endless, overwhelming wealth that I saw as dirty and corrupt.

I pushed the heavy glass door open, stepping into the luxurious, dimly lit bathroom. It was completely empty, smelling faintly of expensive jasmine soap.

I walked straight toward the large mirrors, leaning my hands against the stone counter, my chest rising and falling as I stared at my reflection.

*What is wrong with you?* I scolded myself in the silence, my fingers gripping the edge of the stone. *Are you insane? You just poked a sleeping tiger. You don't play games with a man like Damien Kane. And you hate men, remember? You don't care about what no man feels.*

I needed to get home and have a long sleep because I was sure what happened few minutes ago was caused by lack of sleep.

I pulled a paper towel from the dispenser, trying to wipe the sudden sweat from the back of my neck. I needed to leave the wedding right now. I reached into my small purse, my fingers shaking as I grabbed my phone to call an Uber. I couldn't stay here for another second.

The main restroom door swung open behind me.

I didn't even have time to turn around before a massive, dark shadow completely blocked out the light in the mirror. A huge, tatted hand reached out from behind me, grabbing my upper arm in an iron grip.

I had been dragged like this too many times now to not know exactly who was capable of doing it. He was the only one who continuously got into my space, forcing his way past my boundaries.

Before a single cry could leave my throat, I was dragged backward, my heels scraping against the floor. He pulled me straight into the largest toilet stall at the end of the room, slamming the door shut behind us.

I opened my mouth to scream, but his other hand flew up, his large palm pressing hard over my mouth, blocking the sound into a pathetic gasp.

Damien pinned me flat against the wall of the stall, using his massive, broad body to completely trap me underneath him.

He wasn't shirtless; he was wearing his sharp, expensive wedding suit, looking every bit like the powerful older man who turned out to be the groom’s father.

He was breathing heavily, his chest moving hard against mine, smelling of strong liquor and expensive cologne.

I struggled against him, my hands pushing wildly against his hard chest, trying to kick his legs, but it was like trying to move a brick wall.

He didn't budge an inch. And then, the worst part happened. The familiar, terrifying heat flooded straight between my thighs, my skin tingling everywhere our bodies touched. My body was betraying me again, melting into his size, and I hated myself for it.

Damien leaned down, his face so close his silver hair brushed against my forehead. His dark grey-blue eyes were completely pitch black with unchecked anger.

"I am going to remove my hand," he whispered, his rough voice shaking slightly right against my skin.

"But it is completely up to you if you want to make a scene. Go ahead. Scream. Yell for help. But before you open that pretty mouth of yours, I want you to think.

Think about your precious career, and think about your little sister’s reputation if the whole wedding walks in here and finds you trapped in a restroom stall with the groom's father."

My heart did a violent flip. He had me completely cornered. As a top lawyer, I knew exactly what a scandal like this would do to my family.

The embarrassment would ruin Mimi's wedding day, and my mother would never recover from the shame. I stopped struggling, my body going stiff against the wall, and I just glared at him through my glasses.

Seeing that I had given up, Damien slowly, deliberately slid his palm away from my mouth. But he didn't give me my freedom.

In one smooth, commanding movement, he grabbed both of my wrists, lifted my hands above my head, and pinned them flat against the wall, locking them together with just one of his massive hands.

His body pressed even deeper into mine. Because of how he had my hands pinned high above my head, it forced my chest to arch forward, pressing my front directly against his suit jacket.

His thighs were wedged firmly between mine, keeping my legs completely locked in place. I was completely at his mercy. I was supposed to be pissed.

I was supposed to be furious and disgusted by this behavior. But instead, looking up at his dark, dominant face, a wave of pure, intoxicating arousal washed over me. I was completely turned on, and the realization made me sick with longing.

"What the hell was that out there a few minutes ago?" Damien demanded, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous tone.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, trying to force my stubborn mask back on. "I don't know what you're talking about," I lied, my voice shaking despite my best efforts. "Let me go."