Chapter 119: Chapter 118: Insatiable
ARIA’S POV - 12:25 PM
Aria stood in line at the café on the building’s ground floor, her stomach in knots.
Lunch at my desk. Lock the door behind you.
She knew what that meant. Knew that "lunch" was code for another claiming session. Another round of his fingers inside her, his mouth on her skin, his commands making her fall apart.
Three times. They’d done this three times now, and it had only been a day and a half since he’d broken his month-long freeze.
"What can I get you?" the barista asked.
"Two Caesar salads. Dressing on the side." Damien’s usual lunch order.
While she waited, her phone buzzed with a text from Mark
Hey! Group of us going to that new taco place for lunch. You in?
She typed back quickly.
Can’t. Working lunch with Mr. Blackwood.
Again? Girl, you need to set boundaries. He’s working you too hard.
It’s fine. Important project.
If you say so. Rain check for Friday?
She hesitated, remembering Damien’s reaction last time Marcus had invited her somewhere. The jealousy. The possession. The way he’d pulled her into his office and reminded her exactly who she belonged to.
I’ll let you know.
The salads appeared, and she carried them back to the elevator, her heart pounding harder with each floor.
47th floor. Her floor. Their floor.
The office was mostly empty....people at lunch or in meetings. Just a few stragglers at their desks.
She walked to Damien’s office, knocked once.
"Come in."
She entered, salads in hand, and closed the door behind her.
Click. The lock engaged.
"Set them down," he said, not looking up from his computer.
She placed the salads on his desk, stepped back.
"Come here."
She moved around the desk to where he sat in his leather chair.
He turned to face her, his eyes dark and hungry despite the professional setting, the lunch hour, the glass walls showing the near-empty office beyond.
"Do you know why I asked you to have lunch with me?" he asked.
"I have an idea."
"Tell me."
"Because you want to touch me again. Make me come again."
"Smart girl." His hand reached out, traced the line of her skirt. "But there’s more to it than that."
"What?"
"I got a call this morning. From my grandfather. He’s coming back in two weeks." His eyes studied her face. "And I need to tell you something about him. About what his return means."
Aria’s stomach dropped. "What does it mean?"
"It means you’re going to meet him. Have dinner with us. Be introduced to the most important person in my life."
"Damien...."
"It means Victoria’s grandfather has been pushing for a marriage between Victoria and me. Trying to convince my grandfather that it’s a good match." His jaw tightened. "And it means I had to explain to my grandfather that I’m not interested in Victoria because there’s someone else."
"You told him about me?"
"I told him there’s a woman I’m...." He paused. "Working things out with. Someone important. Someone he needs to meet."
Aria’s heart raced. This was huge. Meeting his grandfather. Being introduced as.....what? His girlfriend? His assistant he was rebuilding trust with?
"What did you tell him about us?" she asked carefully.
"That it’s complicated and we’re rebuilding. That I’m trying to trust you again." His hand slid higher on her thigh. "But I didn’t tell him how. Didn’t explain that we’re doing this...." His fingers traced the edge of her panties. "Every day. Multiple times a day. That I can’t seem to stop touching you."
"What will you tell him?"
"That you’re mine. That despite everything, I’m choosing you." His eyes met hers, intense and vulnerable in a way she rarely saw. "But Aria, understand....my grandfather’s opinion matters. If he doesn’t approve, it will complicate things."
"And if he does approve?"
"Then it sends a clear message to Harold Ashford and Victoria that I’m not available. That there’s no possibility of a Blackwood-Ashford alliance." His fingers slipped beneath her panties, found her already wet. "But that means you have two weeks to prove yourself. To show me you can handle this life, this intensity, this version of us."
"I can handle it," she whispered.
"Can you?" He slid one finger inside her, and she gasped. "Can you handle me touching you constantly? Making you come multiple times a day? Maintaining professionalism while I’m finger-fucking you in my office during lunch?"
"Yes, Damien. i can....."
"Can you handle meeting my grandfather, knowing he’ll be assessing you? Deciding if you’re good enough for his heir?"
"Yes." Though her voice shook slightly.
"Can you handle Victoria likely escalating her schemes when she realizes I’m serious about someone else?"
"I....."
He added a second finger, curled them inside her. "Answer me."
"Yes! Yes, I can handle it."
"Good." His thumb found her clit. "Because I need you to, Aria. Need you to be strong enough for what’s coming. Need you to prove that what we’re building is worth the complications."
His fingers moved faster, and she had to grip the edge of his desk to stay upright.
"Two weeks," he murmured, his free hand pulling her closer so he could mouth at her breast through her blouse. "Two weeks to prepare. To get stronger. To show me you can handle my world."
"I can....oh god....I can handle it...."
"Prove it. Come for me right now. Quietly. While people work just beyond these walls. While our lunch gets cold. While you’re supposed to be my professional assistant."
The combination of his words, his fingers, his mouth on her breast even through the fabric....it pushed her over.
She came with a strangled gasp, her body clenching around his fingers, pleasure washing through her in waves.
He worked her through it, then withdrew his fingers and brought them to his mouth.
"Delicious," he murmured. "Every single time."
She was trembling, barely able to stand, and he pulled her down onto his lap.
"Eat your lunch," he commanded. "You need your strength."
"For what?"
His smile was dark. "For the next two weeks of me being insatiable." He kissed her neck, just below her ear. "For meeting my grandfather and proving you belong at my side."
She sat on his lap, eating salad with shaking hands while he worked on his tablet with one arm wrapped possessively around her waist.
Two weeks.
In two weeks, everything could change.
Either she’d prove herself worthy of Damien Blackwood’s grandfather’s approval....
Or she’d lose everything.
Again.
