CHAPTER 11

Sienna sighed heavily as she stepped into her apartment, the door clicking shut behind her. The moment she was alone, she let out a frustrated groan and threw her keys onto the counter.

What the hell was wrong with her?

She pressed her palms against the cool surface of the counter, breathing deeply.

She blamed herself for wanting too much.

What did she want, anyway? Love? No, that was out of the question. She didn’t believe in love. She had stopped believing in it the moment she realized it was just another way to hurt someone. But she also didn’t want to be just another notch on Damian’s bedpost.

She wanted more than just sex.

And that confused the hell out of her.

“Fuck!” she cursed loudly, running a hand through her hair.

She didn’t know how she was going to face Damian after what had happened between them. Maybe she could just ignore him.

Tried that. Failed miserably.

Maybe she could just be professional. Keep things distant. Stop reacting to his voice, his touch, his presence.

Yeah, maybe she could do that.

She let out a humorless laugh. As if that would be easy.

Just as she was trying to talk herself down, her doorbell rang.

She froze.

It was nearly midnight.

Who the hell would be at her door at this hour?

A cold feeling of unease settled in her stomach. Carefully, she stepped toward the door, peering through the peephole.

Her breath caught.

Damian.

Her heartbeat quickened. He stood outside her door, leaning against the frame, looking as unbothered as ever. His dark hair was slightly disheveled, his sharp eyes locked onto the door as if he knew she was standing right behind it.

Her fingers clenched around the doorknob.

This was her chance. If she wanted to end whatever was happening between them, now was the time.

Taking a deep breath, she pulled the door open just enough to step into the doorway.

His gaze flickered over her.

"Mr. Laurent," she greeted flatly.

His expression shifted slightly, brows drawing together. "Since when do you call me that?"

She forced a nonchalant shrug. "Do you need anything, sir?"

A muscle in his jaw ticked. "Cut the bullshit, Sienna. Let me in."

"No."

His lips twitched slightly, but there was no amusement in his expression. "No?"

"That’s what I said."

The air between them thickened.

His presence was overwhelming, pressing against her like an invisible force. She could smell his cologne—dark, rich, intoxicating. It sent an unwanted shiver down her spine.

Damian let out a slow breath, tilting his head slightly. "I don’t take orders well, sweetheart."

"And I don’t take visitors at midnight," she countered.

For a moment, he just stared at her.

Then, suddenly, he reached out.

She sucked in a breath as his fingers brushed over the strands of her hair, tucking them behind her ear. It was such a simple touch, yet it sent heat racing through her body.

"You’re mad at me," he murmured.

She swallowed hard, forcing herself not to react. "I’m not mad."

"Liar."

She clenched her jaw. "What do you want, Damian?"

"To talk," he said simply.

She almost laughed. "Talk? Since when do you care about talking?"

He smirked, eyes darkening. "Since you started running from me."

Her stomach twisted.

She wanted to slam the door in his face, but something inside her hesitated.

"You should go," she whispered.

His hand moved, fingers grazing her jaw this time. A featherlight touch, but it was enough to make her entire body ache.

"Tell me you don’t want me, Sienna," he said, voice low, challenging.

She should have said it.

She should have lied.

But the words got stuck in her throat.

Damian’s gaze searched hers, and for a split second, she thought she saw something—uncertainty? No, that couldn’t be right.

He leaned in just a fraction, his breath warm against her skin.

Her pulse hammered.

She forced herself to step back, out of his reach. "Goodnight, Damian."

A flicker of something unreadable crossed his face before he let out a quiet chuckle, stepping away.

"Goodnight, Sienna," he murmured, turning on his heel.

She shut the door quickly, locking it.

And then, finally, she let out the breath she’d been holding.

Her knees felt weak.

She pressed her back against the door, her fingers trembling slightly.

What the hell was she doing?

She had to end this before it destroyed her.

But deep down, she knew the truth.

It was already too late.

—---------

The sun was high when Sienna finally woke up, the golden light filtering through her curtains. She groaned as she rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling.

It was already past 11 a.m.

She hated waking up this late, but her mind had been in chaos last night. Because of him.

Damian Laurent.

He was living rent-free in her head, occupying every damn thought, every lingering moment of silence. It was frustrating.

Maybe another confession at church would help.

No. That was stupid. The last one did nothing except make her feel like an idiot.

She needed a distraction.

Sienna sat up and ran a hand through her messy hair before deciding—a swim.

The rooftop pool was her sanctuary, a place she rarely saw anyone else use, especially at this hour. She could be alone. She could clear her head.

Throwing on a black one-piece swimsuit and grabbing a towel, she made her way up to the rooftop.

Just as she’d hoped, the space was empty.

The pool's surface shimmered under the sun, the cool blue water inviting. Sienna took a deep breath and stepped in, the chill refreshing against her heated skin.

She swam a few laps, allowing her muscles to stretch and relax, letting herself forget everything.

When she finished, she floated on her back, eyes closed, her mind drifting into a peaceful state.

For the first time in days, she felt calm.

Until she heard the sound of water splashing beside her.

Her eyes snapped open.

And there he was.

Damian.

His dark hair was wet, slicked back, water droplets running down his sharp, chiseled features. He was close, his broad shoulders cutting through the water as he swam toward her with slow, purposeful strokes.

She tensed.

“What the hell are you doing here?” she demanded.

He didn’t answer.

Instead, before she could react, he reached for her.

"Damian—"

Too late.

He lifted her effortlessly, pulling her out of the water and into his arms. She gasped as her wet body pressed against his, her arms instinctively clutching at his shoulders.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" she snapped, struggling.

But Damian wasn’t letting go.

"We need to talk," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "And I’m not letting you run away this time."

Before she could protest, he carried her straight to the door leading back inside.

“Damian, put me down, now!” she demanded, thrashing against him.

"Not until we finish this conversation."

The next thing she knew, they were inside his apartment.

Sienna barely had time to process her surroundings as he set her down on the plush black couch.

The place was exactly what she expected—dark, modern, and refined. The walls were deep charcoal, the furniture sleek and minimalist. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a breathtaking view of the city, but the space itself felt cold, like a place meant to be lived in but not loved.

A few personal touches—whiskey bottles on the bar, a neatly stacked pile of books on the coffee table—hinted at something deeper, but Damian wasn’t the type to make a place feel like home.

"Talk," she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

He stood in front of her, still dripping wet, hands on his hips.

"Why are you running from me?"

She scoffed. "I’m not running."

"Bullshit."

She clenched her jaw, refusing to meet his gaze. "I told you last night—I don’t want this. I don’t want you."

A tense silence filled the air.

Then, Damian took a slow step toward her.

She held her ground, though every nerve in her body screamed at her to move.

"You're lying."

Sienna let out a humorless laugh. "And you think you know me that well?"

"Yes."

The confidence in his tone sent a shiver down her spine.

He leaned down, placing a hand on the back of the couch, caging her in. His scent—clean, masculine, laced with the faintest trace of cologne—wrapped around her like a trap.

"Then tell me," he said softly, his eyes never leaving hers. "Why were you disappointed?"

Her stomach dropped.

"What?"

He tilted his head slightly, studying her reaction. "That night in the car. When I told you I wanted to have sex with you."

She swallowed hard.

"Your face," he continued, his voice a low murmur. "You looked... disappointed. Why?"

Her throat went dry.

"I wasn't," she lied.

"You were."

"You're imagining things."

"Am I?"

His fingers brushed against her thigh, barely there, but it was enough to make her entire body tense.

"Stop," she said, her voice weaker than she wanted.

"Then answer the question."

She clenched her fists. "Because I thought—"

She cut herself off.

Damian’s gaze sharpened. "You thought what?"

Sienna bit her lip, frustrated with herself for even speaking.

"Say it," he pressed.

Her heart pounded against her ribs.

"I thought you wanted more," she admitted, barely above a whisper.

The second the words left her mouth, she regretted them.

Damian was silent.

His eyes locked onto hers, his expression unreadable.

Then, slowly, his fingers trailed higher, his touch featherlight, teasing. "And what if I do?"

Her breath hitched.

She couldn't think when he was this close, when his warmth was seeping into her skin, when his presence was suffocating.

"You don't," she whispered, more to herself than to him.

His other hand came up, his knuckles grazing her jaw. "You’re scared to find out, aren’t you?"

Her stomach twisted.

"You think you have me figured out, Sienna," he murmured, his lips barely an inch from hers. "But you don’t."

She hated how her body reacted, how she leaned into his touch despite every voice in her head telling her not to.

"I should go," she whispered.

"You should," he agreed. But he didn’t move.

Neither did she.

They stood there, inches apart, the air between them crackling with tension.

She didn’t know who moved first, but suddenly, their lips were almost touching.

Just one more inch—

Sienna shoved him back.

The spell broke.

She stood quickly, breathing heavily. "I can’t do this."

Damian exhaled slowly, his jaw tight.

"So that’s it?" he asked, his voice calm but laced with something deeper.

She forced herself to nod. "Yeah."

He studied her for a long moment before taking a step back, giving her space.

"Fine," he said.

She hesitated. She hadn’t expected him to give in so easily.

Sienna turned toward the door, determined to leave.

She had to.

She needed to put distance between them before she did something she’d regret.

But just as her fingers grazed the doorknob, Damian’s strong hand wrapped around her wrist, stopping her.

"Sienna," he said, his voice low, dangerous.

Her heart pounded as she slowly turned to face him.

His eyes were dark, filled with something unreadable, something that made her stomach tighten.

"I’m not letting you walk away," he murmured.

Her throat went dry.

"Let me go, Damian."

He shook his head, stepping closer, his grip firm but not painful. "No."

"Why?" she demanded.

"Because you don’t want me to."

Her breath caught.

"That’s not true," she whispered.

His lips curved slightly. "Then why aren’t you pulling away?"

She opened her mouth, but no words came out.

Because he was right.

She hated that he was right.

She should have shoved him off, should have walked out of his apartment without looking back.

Instead, she stood frozen, her body betraying her.

The air between them thickened, the tension almost suffocating.

Damian lifted his free hand and traced his fingers along her jaw, tilting her chin up slightly. His touch was soft, barely there, but it sent shivers down her spine.

"Tell me to stop," he murmured.

Sienna’s lips parted, but the words wouldn’t come.

"Tell me to stop," he repeated, his voice like silk, seductive and commanding all at once.

Her silence was all the answer he needed.

The next thing she knew, his lips crashed against hers.

A sharp gasp escaped her, but she didn’t resist.

She couldn’t.

The kiss was everything she feared—hungry, demanding, intoxicating.

Damian wasn’t gentle. He kissed her like he wanted to consume her, like he’d been waiting for this moment just as desperately as she had.

Her fingers curled into his shirt, pulling him closer as heat flooded through her veins.

He growled against her lips, his hands gripping her waist before sliding down, molding her body against his.

She barely registered the moment he lifted her, moving them toward the couch.

Her back hit the cushions, Damian pressing down on her, his body solid, warm, dominant.

His lips moved from her mouth to her jaw, then lower, tracing a burning path down her neck.

Sienna gasped as he bit down lightly, soothing the spot with his tongue.

"Damian," she breathed.

He groaned, his hands roaming, touching, exploring.

Her body arched into his, desperate for more, for everything.

"Tell me to stop," he said again, his voice hoarse against her skin.

But she didn’t.

She didn’t want him to stop.

She was drowning in him, in his touch, in the fire he ignited inside her.

Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him back to her lips, kissing him just as fiercely.

There was no going back now.

She was giving in.

And God help her—she wanted to.

Damian moved his hand gripping her breast, massaging it for a moment before his hand moved further down rubbing her wet core from the fabric of her swimsuit. She gasped, the heat was intense, but she loved it. She knew that what was about to happen was dangerous, but she didn’t plan on stopping it.

“I am going to ask you for one last time, tell me to stop.” He said.

“Stop talking, you are ruining the mood.” She said. Damian smirked, exactly the answer that he expected. He helped her out of her swimsuit, and now she lying there naked. He bit his lip admiring her beauty, she was a work of art. He had imagined what She would look like naked.

But the reality of it exceeded his expectations. “Like what you you see?” She asked, noticing the way he was looking at her.

“More like love what I see.” He then carried her to his bedroom, And he laid her down on the bed. He used both his hands opening her legs. She looked away in embarrassment. He leaned his face down to her wet area. “Damn you are wet.” He said planting soft kisses on in teasing her.

He then started sucking on her clit slowly and sliding his tongue in and out. She grabbed the sheets gasping and moaning. “You taste so good.” He said. She was loving every second of it, the heat of his mouth, the way his tongue swirled around like he had done this a million times, which of course he had. He was Damian after all.

He then reached for his nightstand, and he opened it taking out a condom. He then took off his pants letting out his already erected cock. Sienna gasped, shutting her legs. “Is it supposed to be that big?” She asked. Damian smirked.

“I am not sure how to take that. But I am sure it is supposed to be this big, it's not like it's reaching my knees.” He said, putting on the condom. “Open your legs princess.” He said. She looked away and she opened them. There was no turning back now, she wanted this and now she was going to get it.

She squeezed her eyes shut as he slowly slid it in. She grabbed the sheets biting her lip, holding back her moans. His movements were slow at first but they got faster and deeper, too deep. “Slow down.” She said, He was too much for her.

She thought that he was going to refuse but he did as she asked, he thrust slowly in her, letting her adjust to his size but then he got faster again. This time she didn’t tell him to slow down, because it didn't hurt, well it did, but the pleasure masked all the pain. Her hands dug into his back as he got quicker and sloppy. She didn't remember the last time she had felt like this under a man.

It had been almost three years since she last had sex, she hadn’t really had that much of a desire for it until Damian. And she was enjoying it, she was loving every second of it. Now she didn’t care whether she would regret it afterwards or not.