The CEO's Rejected Wife And Secret Heir novel Chapter 150

Chapter 150: Chapter 150: Seducing Damien

Aria pov

I kissed him hard, crashing my mouth against his like I’d been starving for it. Damien made a low, startled sound in the back of his throat—half surprise, half hunger—before his control snapped and he kissed me back with equal force.

My hands moved on instinct, sliding up the crisp front of his dress shirt, feeling the hard planes of his chest beneath the fabric. I hooked my arms around his neck, fingers threading into the short, dark hair at his nape, tugging just enough to make him growl against my lips.

When I finally pulled back an inch—just enough to breathe—his eyes had gone almost black, pupils blown wide, the icy blue swallowed by raw want. His hands were already locked around my waist, fingers digging in like he was afraid I’d disappear again if he let go.

"We’re supposed to be taking this slow," he rasped, voice rough, chest rising and falling fast.

I bit my lower lip, letting my lashes flutter as I looked up at him. "We’ve had sex countless times, Damien." My voice came out low, deliberate. "What’s so bad about bending the rules a little?"

"Aria..." My name sounded like both warning and plea on his tongue.

I pressed closer, molding my body against his until there was no space left between us. Slowly, deliberately, I rolled my hips forward, grinding the soft heat between my thighs against the thick ridge already straining behind his trousers. His grip on my waist turned bruising, a sharp inhale hissing through his teeth.

"When did you get this naughty?" he asked, but the words came out strained, almost pained.

I laughed softly, the sound dark and teasing against the skin of his throat. "I’ve always been naughty. You just forgot."

My right hand drifted down between our bodies. I let my palm glide over the flat plane of his abdomen, feeling the muscles jump under my touch, then lower still until I cupped him through the fine wool of his trousers. He was rock-hard, thick and heavy in my hand, the heat of him searing even through the layers.

I gave a slow, firm squeeze.

Damien groaned—deep, broken—and his head tipped back for a second, exposing the strong column of his throat. The sound vibrated through his chest and into mine.

"Fuck, Aria," he breathed, almost reverent.

I stroked him again, firmer this time, tracing the full length of him from base to tip through the fabric, feeling him twitch and swell even more under my palm. His hips jerked forward involuntarily, chasing the pressure.

His hands slid down from my waist to grip my ass, hauling me up hard against him so my feet barely touched the floor. I wrapped one leg around his thigh, opening myself more, letting him feel exactly how wet I already was through the thin silk of my panties and the dress bunched at my hips.

He dropped his forehead to mine, breathing ragged. "You’re trying to kill me."

"No," I whispered, lips brushing his as I spoke. "I’m trying to remind you what you’ve been missing."

He moved fast, spinning us around and trying to pin me against the desk. But I laughed and slipped out of his grasp, dancing backward toward the door. His eyes were blazing now, all traces of control gone.

"You’re playing with fire," he warned.

"Maybe I like the burn." I grabbed my bag from the chair, tossing my hair over my shoulder. Then I turned and walked toward the door with slow, deliberate steps, putting extra sway in my hips.

At the door, I paused and looked back over my shoulder. He was standing there, watching me with hungry eyes, his chest rising and falling.

"Daddy," I said, my voice dripping with sweetness. "Carry my bag for me?"

I winked.

He stared at me for a long moment. Then he laughed, shaking his head. "You’re going to be the death of me."

"Probably." I opened the door and stepped into the hallway. "But what a way to go."

He grabbed his jacket and followed me out, catching up in two long strides. He took my bag from my shoulder, slinging it over his own.

"You’re evil," he said.

"You love it."

"I do." He caught my hand, pulling me close for another kiss. This one was gentler, but no less heated. "But you’re not getting away with this."

"Oh?" I raised an eyebrow. "What are you going to do about it?"

His smile was dangerous. "Guess you’ll find out when we get home."

"The housekeeper is there," I reminded him.

"Then I’ll wait until she leaves." He squeezed my hand. "But make no mistake, Aria. You started something tonight. And I’m going to finish it."

A thrill ran through me. "Promises, promises."

We walked to the elevator together, the air between us electric. His hand stayed on the small of my back, possessive and warm. I could feel the tension radiating off him.

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