The thought pulsed through Alina's mind like a heartbeat all the way back to Damian's townhouse. The city glittered beyond the tinted windows, but inside the car was a cocoon of charged silence. Damian's hand rested over hers on the leather seat, his thumb sweeping slow, possessive strokes across her skin. Each subtle touch set off tiny shocks beneath her ribs.
When the car rolled to a stop, he didn't wait for the driver. Damian opened the door himself, guiding her out with that same firm grip that always seemed to anchor her — and own her.
---
The townhouse felt different tonight. It wasn't just a place of secrets and dark games anymore. It felt… intimate. Like a threshold they were crossing together.
In the foyer, he didn't push her against the wall or devour her mouth like he often did. Instead, Damian paused, eyes dark on hers. He reached up and slowly removed her delicate black mask, then pulled off his own.
Without the disguises, something in his gaze turned almost raw.
"Come upstairs," he said quietly.
---
Up in his bedroom, he didn't tell her how to undress. He didn't order her onto her knees or into any practiced position. He simply stood there, watching her in the soft lamplight, until she realized he was waiting for her.
So she stepped forward. With hands that only trembled a little, she began unbuttoning his shirt. Each time she revealed another inch of warm skin, Damian's breath seemed to catch. When she pushed the fabric off his shoulders, her fingers traced lightly over the hard planes of his chest, marveling at the way muscle shifted under her touch.
He let out a quiet, unsteady sound — something almost like a sigh.
"Alina…" His voice was hoarse.
"Let me," she whispered.
---
She finished undressing him, then let her own gown slip to the floor. Standing naked before him, she felt a shiver of nerves, but also a deep, coiling heat. Damian's hands came up to cup her face, tilting it up so their eyes locked.
"I've never brought anyone this close," he admitted, so low she almost didn't catch it. "Not just to my body — but to this."
His thumb brushed over her parted lips, like he was memorizing the shape of them.
"This?" she asked softly.
"My need. My… weakness, if you want to call it that. Letting someone in means giving them the power to destroy you."
Her heart clenched. "Then why me?"
Damian's jaw flexed. He drew a shaky breath, then pressed their foreheads together.
"Because I couldn't stop it if I tried."
---
He led her to the bed, guiding her down onto the cool sheets. They tangled together in a slow, aching tangle of limbs — not master and willing captive, but two people who couldn't seem to stop reaching for each other.
When Damian finally entered her, it was with a kind of reverence that made her eyes sting. He rocked into her with a languid, rolling rhythm, holding her gaze as though he needed to watch every flutter of her lashes, every small gasp.
"You undo me," he whispered, voice breaking on the last word.
Alina wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer until their bodies were flush and every breath mingled.
"Then let me," she whispered back. "Let me see all of you."
---
It wasn't rough this time. There were no ropes, no sharp commands. Just the heat of their bodies sliding together, the quiet hitches of breath, the way Damian buried his face against her throat like he was hiding.
She felt him trembling slightly — Damian, always so controlled, always so sure of his power. The realization that he was trembling because of her sent a rush of fierce tenderness through her chest.
When pleasure finally crested, it was softer but somehow more devastating, like breaking apart under the weight of something too big, too consuming to ever name.
---
They lay tangled together afterward, his hand resting heavy over her heart. The room was hushed, the only sound the slowing beat of their breaths.
"Does this scare you?" she asked after a long silence.
Damian was quiet so long she thought he wouldn't answer. Then, in a voice that was nearly unrecognizable for its softness, he said, "More than anything."
She swallowed around the knot in her throat. "Then we're even. Because I've never wanted someone like I want you."
His fingers tightened slightly over her heart, like he was trying to memorize its rhythm.
---
Sleep eventually pulled at them. Just before she drifted off, Damian pressed a lingering kiss to her hair.
"Stay with me," he whispered roughly. "Not just tonight. Stay."
She didn't know what would happen tomorrow, or the day after. But in that moment, it was the easiest promise she'd ever made.
"Always."
And for the first time since they met, she felt him finally, truly, let go.