CHAPTER FIVE

Aria's POV

I ran.

I didn’t stop to pick up the broken porcelain. Didn’t stop to listen to Serena’s laughter or risk looking into Damian’s dark, unreadable gaze.

I just ran.

My breath came in shallow bursts as I hurried down the corridor, my pulse thrumming so hard it felt like my heart was trying to claw its way out of my chest.

I needed to forget what I had seen.

Forget the way his hands gripped her like he owned every inch of her body.

And most of all—I needed to forget what I had just learned.

Serena wasn’t just one of his women.

She was his fiancée.

The future mistress of this house.

A woman who belonged in his world—beautiful, powerful, untouchable.

And I was just the maid.

A nobody.

A lump formed in my throat, bitter and heavy.

How had I been so stupid?

For days, I had felt something whenever Damian looked at me. A tension, a heat, a pull that didn’t make sense.

And for one reckless, fleeting second, I had wondered—had let myself believe—that maybe I wasn’t imagining it.

But I was.

I had to be.

Because Damian Blackwood already had a woman. A woman who fit perfectly into his world. A woman who wasn’t me.

I swallowed the tight knot of emotions in my chest, forcing my breath to slow.

This had to stop.

I had to stop.

No more stolen glances.

No more lingering thoughts.

No more fantasizing about something that would never be mine.

I was just the maid.

And that’s all I would ever be.

—

The hallway was dimly lit, the glow from the sconces casting long shadows along the walls. I moved in silence, carefully wiping down the polished wood paneling, trying to lose myself in the mindless routine of cleaning.

But the second I felt it, I knew.

The air shifted.

A slow ripple of something thick and unspoken.

My grip on the cloth tightened, and I turned sharply—only to find him standing there.

His expression was unreadable, but his eyes? They were full of something I didn’t understand.

My stomach twisted. “Sir,” I breathed. “I…”

He tilted his head slightly, his gaze dragging over me, slow and deliberate.

“Tell me,” he murmured, voice smooth as silk. “Did you like what you saw?”

My entire body locked up.

The breath hitched in my throat, my cheeks heating so fast I felt dizzy. “I—what?”

A slow, wicked smirk touched his lips.

“You were watching, weren’t you?” He took a step closer, the hallway growing impossibly smaller. “You didn’t look away.”

“I—I wasn’t…”

“Don’t lie to me, Aria.” His voice dropped lower, a dark promise wrapped in velvet. “You stood there, eyes wide, lips parted, drinking it in. So tell me…”

Another step.

My back hit the wall.

His palms flattened against the wood on either side of my head, caging me in, his scent wrapping around me.

“…Did you like what you saw?”

I was drowning.

The heat between us was suffocating, pressing into every inch of my body, curling in places it shouldn’t. My heart slammed against my ribs as I forced my gaze away, as if looking anywhere but at him could save me.

“Sir, please,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “Someone could see…”

His breath brushed against my cheek as he leaned in. “Only I can cause you trouble, little maid.”

I shivered.

His hand moved, the backs of his fingers ghosting over my bare arm, igniting a slow, wicked fire beneath my skin.

“You’re tormenting me,” he murmured.

I swallowed hard, pressing myself further against the wall. “I haven’t done anything.”

“Haven’t you?” His fingers trailed lower, barely brushing the side of my waist. “You walk around this house like an innocent little thing, completely unaware that I want to ruin you.”

Oh God.

My body betrayed me.

A slow, aching heat pooled deep inside me, twisting into something dangerous, something forbidden.

I pressed myself against the wall, but there was nowhere to go.

Nowhere to escape.

Damian let out a quiet, amused hum, his head dipping lower, his lips hovering just near my cheek.

Oh God.

I could feel the warmth of his breath against my skin, so close, too close.

My knees threatened to give out.

“You know what I want to do to you?” He murmured, his lips barely grazing the corner of my mouth. Not quite a kiss. Not yet.

My heart slammed against my ribs, the space between us nonexistent now.

I should push him away. I should stop this before it started.

But I couldn’t.

Damian’s fingers slid beneath my chin, tilting my face up so I had no choice but to meet his eyes.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispered, his lips brushing mine without fully closing the distance.

A sharp, aching need coiled inside me, my body betraying me in ways I didn’t understand.

And then—he kissed me.

The world ceased to exist.

His lips crushed against mine, firm and commanding, swallowing my startled breath before I even had a chance to take another.

It was raw, earth-shattering, a collision of heat and hunger that left me completely helpless beneath him.

I didn’t kiss him back—I drowned in him.

His tongue swept against mine, tasting, devouring. My knees went weak, my body molding into his like I belonged there.

One of his hands gripped my hip, pressing me against him, letting me feel just how hard he was. How much he wanted me.

“Damian,” I gasped against his mouth.

He growled in response, his lips trailing down my jaw, down my throat, his tongue flicking against my racing pulse.

I barely had time to process the thought before I felt him drop to his knees.

Oh, God.

His hands slid up my thighs, pushing my dress higher, his lips following the path of his fingers.

This isn’t happening.

But it was.

It was real.

It was him.

My breath came in ragged, shallow pants, my skin tingling with anticipation.

And then—his mouth hovered just above my core.

His breath was hot. Dangerous.

“Please,” I whispered, my entire body trembling.

Damian stilled.

Then—a slow, dark chuckle.

“Please stop…” His hands tightened on my thighs. “Or please continue?”