Chapter 6– A Dangerous Addiction

Sophia gasped against Damien's lips, but he didn't let her pull away.

His grip was firm—possessive—but not forceful. As if he knew she wouldn't truly resist.

And he was right.

Because instead of stopping him, her fingers curled into his shirt, pulling him closer.

She hated him.

She wanted him.

She was losing herself in him.

Damien's hands roamed down her back, molding her to him. The heat between them was unbearable, setting fire to every inch of her skin.

This was dangerous.

This was reckless.

But neither of them stopped.

Not when he deepened the kiss, not when he pressed her against the wall, and definitely not when his hands slid under the fabric of her dress, teasing the bare skin beneath.

Sophia's breath hitched, reality slamming into her like a freight train.

She shoved against his chest, breaking the kiss.

"This—this wasn't part of the deal," she panted.

Damien exhaled slowly, his gaze burning into hers. "No, it wasn't."

Silence stretched between them, thick and charged.

Sophia's heart thundered.

She wasn't supposed to let it get this far.

She had rules—lines she wouldn't cross.

And yet, standing there, looking at Damien, she realized something terrifying.

She wanted to cross them.

---

Sophia turned on her heel. "I'm going to bed."

She needed space.

Needed to clear her head.

Damien didn't try to stop her this time.

But as she walked away, she could feel his gaze on her, like an invisible chain keeping her bound to him.

She slammed the bedroom door shut behind her, leaning against it as she tried to steady her breath.

Her body still burned from his touch.

She ran a shaky hand through her hair.

What the hell was she doing?

She was playing with fire.

And if she wasn't careful, Damien Blackwood would burn her alive.

---

When Sophia woke the next morning, she told herself she'd regained control.

Last night had been a moment of weakness. Nothing more.

She could handle this.

She had to.

Dressed in a silk robe, she stepped out of the bedroom, expecting to find Damien gone.

Instead, he was in the kitchen, shirtless, a steaming cup of coffee in hand.

Sophia froze.

He looked completely at ease, as if he hadn't shattered her resolve just hours ago.

His gaze flickered to her. "Morning."

She cleared her throat, forcing indifference into her tone. "Morning."

She moved to grab a cup of coffee, determined to act normal.

But then—Damien caught her wrist.

She tensed.

His fingers traced lazy circles against her skin, sending shivers up her spine.

"Are we going to pretend last night didn't happen?" he asked, his voice low and teasing.

She forced herself to meet his gaze. "Yes."

His lips curved into a smirk. "Liar."

Her pulse pounded.

She yanked her hand back and grabbed her coffee.

"I have work to do."

Damien chuckled, leaning against the counter. "Run all you want, Sophia. But we both know—"

He took a sip of his coffee, watching her with dark amusement.

"—you'll be back."

Sophia turned away before he could see just how much his words unsettled her.

Because deep down, she feared he was right.

She was already too far gone.

---

Sophia spent the rest of the morning buried in work, trying to pretend Damien Blackwood didn't exist.

She forced herself to focus on emails, meetings, and everything that wasn't the memory of his lips on hers.

But it was impossible to ignore the lingering heat in her skin. The way her body still tingled from his touch.

It didn't help that he was everywhere.

Every time she turned around, Damien was there—watching her with that smug, knowing expression.

It was infuriating.

And worse, it was making her crave him even more.

She needed to get out of here.

---

Sophia grabbed her phone and called her best friend, Lena.

"I need a drink," she said the moment Lena answered.

Her friend laughed. "Rough day?"

"More like rough morning."

"I know just the place. Meet me at Noir in an hour."

Sophia sighed in relief. A night out was exactly what she needed.

Time to remind herself that she was in control.

---

Noir was one of the city's most exclusive lounges, dimly lit with deep red lighting and a sultry atmosphere.

Sophia dressed for war—a sleek black dress, high heels, and red lipstick that screamed danger.

She needed to reclaim her power.

And tonight, she would.

Lena whistled when she saw her. "Damn, girl. Who are you trying to kill tonight?"

Sophia smirked. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

They headed straight to the bar, ordering cocktails and letting the music wash over them.

For the first time all day, Sophia felt like herself again.

Then she felt it.

A presence.

His presence.

She turned—and her breath caught.

Damien Blackwood stood across the room, watching her.

---

Their eyes locked.

A slow smirk tugged at his lips, as if he had expected her to run.

As if he had followed her here.

Sophia's pulse pounded.

She refused to let him win.

Grabbing her drink, she turned to the man beside her—a tall, handsome stranger who had been eyeing her all night.

"Dance with me," she said.

He grinned. "I thought you'd never ask."

They moved onto the dance floor, bodies swaying to the music.

But Sophia wasn't focused on her partner.

She was very aware of Damien watching her.

Every brush of her hand against the stranger's skin was deliberate. A challenge.

She was testing him.

Seeing how far she could push before he snapped.

She didn't have to wait long.

One moment, she was dancing.

The next—Damien was there.

---

His hands gripped her waist, pulling her away from the stranger in one smooth motion.

The look in his eyes was deadly.

Sophia's breath hitched.

"What are you doing?" she whispered.

His fingers tightened. "Reminding you who you belong to."

Her heart pounded.

She should push him away. She should tell him he didn't own her.

But then he leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear.

"Did you think you could run from me, sweetheart?"

A shiver ran down her spine.

She was playing a dangerous game.

And Damien Blackwood had just raised the stakes.