CHAPTER 6:THE RULES BREAK
1388 Words
Ellie broke rule one: Don't lie to him.
Now Damien is teaching her what punishment feels like.
"Look at me when I touch you," he commanded.
His hands weren't cruel. They were worse. They were possessive.
That day, Ellie learned rules were made to be broken. And devils loved to enforce them.
Morning light hit Ellie’s face like an accusation.
She was still in Damien’s bed. Still in his arms. And still lying.
Last night, when he asked if she was afraid or wanted him, she said “fear.”
Lie.
Damien knew. He always knew.
He was already awake when she opened her eyes. Sitting on the edge of the bed, shirtless. Black pants low on his hips. Muscles carved from stone and sin. A cup of coffee in one hand. Steel gray eyes on her.
“Good morning, liar,” he said. Voice flat. No warmth.
Ellie sat up fast. The sheet slipped. She clutched it to her chest. “I don’t—”
“Don’t,” Damien cut her off. He stood. Set the coffee down. Walked to her side of the bed. “You broke rule one yesterday, Ellie. Don’t lie to me. Ever.”
Her heart slammed against her ribs. “I was scared.”
“You were lying,” he corrected. He crouched in front of her. Now they were eye-level. His hand came up. One finger under her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. “Scared and wanting. There’s a difference. You know the difference.”
Ellie shook her head. Tears threatened. “Please—”
“Please what? Damien's thumb brushed her lower lip. Slow. Punishing. “Please don’t punish you? Please forget you lied? Please let you get away with it? ”
She nodded. Stupid. Desperate.
Damien stood. Walked to the window. Back to her. “Stand up.”
Ellie obeyed. Legs shaking. The sheet was still clutched around her.
Damien turned. His gaze swept over her. Not s****l. Assessing. Like she was property he needed to inspect.
“Drop the sheet,” he ordered.
Her hands froze. “Damien, I—”
“Now, Ellie.”
The sheet fell. She stood there in her thin nightdress. Exposed. Vulnerable. His.
Damien walked around her. Slow. Like a predator circling prey. His hand didn’t touch her. Not yet. But she felt him. Everywhere.
“You think lying is small,” he whispered behind her ear. “But lying to me is theft. You stole the truth from me. And thieves pay debts.”
Ellie closed her eyes. “What are you going to do? ”
Damien’s hand landed on her shoulder. Not hard. Firm. Possessive. He turned her to face him.
“Teach you,” he said simply. “That when I ask a question, you answer with truth. When I touch you, you don’t flinch. When I claim you, you accept it.”
His hand moved. Down her arm. Over her collarbone. Stopping at her throat. Not squeezing. Just resting there. A reminder of his power. Of her lack of it.
“Look at me,” he commanded.
Ellie opened her eyes. Met his. Steel gray. Burning.
Damien’s other hand came up. Cupped her face. Both hands holding her now. Trapping her without chains.
“You lied to me,” he murmured. “So now I’ll take what you tried to hide.”
His thumb dragged over her bottom lip. Then lower. Down her neck. Over her racing pulse. Every touch was deliberate. Slow. Punishing in its gentleness.
Ellie’s breath hitched. “Damien, please stop—”
“No,” he said. Voice soft. Final. “Rule one exists for a reason, Ellie. I don’t share you. I don’t share your truth. You belong to me. All of you.”
His hands slid to her waist. Lifted her. Set her on the edge of the bed like she weighed nothing. He stepped between her knees. Trapped her there.
Now she had to look up at him. Had to see every dark emotion in his eyes.
“Rule one broken,” he whispered. “So we rewrite it.”
Damien’s hands came up again. One on each side of her face. His forehead pressed to hers. Their breaths mingled.
“From now on,” he said, voice rough, “when I touch you, you don’t look away." When I speak, you answer. When I want you, you give yourself. No lies. No hiding. No fear without reason.”
Ellie’s hands gripped the sheets beneath her. “And if I can’t? ”
Damien pulled back just enough to see her eyes. “Then I’ll teach you until you can.”
The threat wasn’t cruel. It was worse. It was a promise.
His lips brushed her jaw. Not a kiss. A brand. Then her cheek. Then the corner of her mouth. Each touch light. Controlled. Driving her insane with want.
“Truth, Ellie,” he murmured against her skin. “Were you afraid last night? ”
Ellie’s voice shook. “No.”
“Truth.”
“No,” she admitted. Voice breaking. “I wasn’t afraid. I wanted you.”
Damien stilled. For a second. Then his hands tightened in her hair. Not painful. Possessive. Pulling her head back so she had to look at him.
“Good girl,” he breathed. The praise hit her like fire. “Truth tastes better on your tongue.”
His lips crashed to hers.
Not gentle. Not asking. Claiming.
Ellie gasped into the kiss. Her hands fisted in his shirt. For a second she fought it. Then she surrendered. Because fighting Damien was like fighting fire. She’d only get burned worse.
The kiss was punishment and promise. Hot and claiming and everything she’d denied wanting. His tongue swept into her mouth, tasting her confession, taking what she’d lied about.
When he pulled back, they were both breathing hard. Her lips were swollen. Her body was burning.
Damien stared at her. Eyes dark. Wild. Like he barely had control left.
“That,” he said, voice rough, “is what happens when you lie to me, Ellie. You get punished. With truth.”
He released her. Stepped back. The loss of his heat made her shiver.
Damien walked to the door. Hand on the knob. Didn’t look back.
“Dinner at 8,” he said. Voice back to cold CEO mode. “And Ellie? Don’t ever lie to me again. Next punishment won’t be a kiss.”
The door closed.
Ellie collapsed back on the bed. Shaking. Lips still burning from his kiss. Body still aching from his touch.
She touched her mouth. His taste was still there.
She broke rule one.
And learned devils didn’t forgive. They claimed.
The room was silent again. But the silence was different now. Charged. Heavy with what happened.
Ellie lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Her lips still tingled. Her skin still remembered his hands. Every touch. Every command. Every moment he forced the truth out of her.
She hated him for it. Hated that he was right. Hated that the kiss didn’t feel like punishment at all.
It felt like coming home.
A soft buzz from the nightstand made her jump. The phone. Damien’s phone.
*Damien:* Truth suits you, Ellie.
*Damien:* Wear the red dress tonight. The one I sent.
*Damien:* And remember Rule One.
No “good night.” No “sleep well.” Just rules. Just him.
Ellie typed back with shaking fingers.
*Ellie:* Yes, sir.
She deleted it. Too fast. Too honest.
Then typed it again. And hit send.
Because lying to Damien hurt more than the truth ever did.
Her phone buzzed again. One more message.
*Damien:* I felt you surrender in my kiss, Ellie.
*Damien:* Don’t pretend you didn’t.
*Damien:* 8 PM. Red dress. My rules.
Ellie pressed her hands to her face. Her cheeks were burning. Her heart was racing. She should be angry. Should be fighting.
Instead, she was smiling. Small. Secret. In the dark of his room.
Because Damien Ashford kissed her like he owned her.
And the terrifying part?
She was starting to believe she did.
She pulled the blanket higher and whispered into the empty room:
“One rule, devil. Don’t make me love you.”
But it was already too late.
**TO BE CONTINUED...**
- Writer
