Aria Pov
"Years ago, I was my father’s son. Cold. Empty. Incapable of loving anything but power." His eyes met mine in the darkness. "You changed that. Noah changed that. You both showed me what actually matters."
I shouldn’t ask. Shouldn’t open this door. But the words came anyway. "What if we’d never gotten pregnant? What if I’d just been the quiet, convenient wife you thought you married?"
"Then I’d probably still be that empty shell of a man." He turned fully toward me. "Which is a terrifying thought. Because it means I needed to lose you to understand what I had."
"We should go back to bed," I said, not moving. "Noah’s fine. We need to rest."
"I can’t." Damien’s voice cracked. "Every time I try to sleep, I think about all the things that could have gone wrong today. If the FBI hadn’t found him in time. If Marcus had" He couldn’t finish.
Before I could think better of it, I reached for his hand. "But they did find him. And Marcus didn’t hurt him, Noah is safe."
His fingers closed around mine, trembling. "I’ve never been this scared in my life. When I thought I might lose him—lose both of you—I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. All I knew was that I’d give anything, do anything, to bring him home."
"You did." I squeezed his hand. "You gave up everything without hesitation. That matters, Damien."
"Does it?" His eyes searched mine. "Does it matter enough that you might someday forgive me? Not for Noah’s sake. For... us?"
"There is no us," I said automatically. But the words felt hollow.
"Isn’t there?" He took a step closer. "Aria, I know I don’t deserve it. I know I have years of making amends ahead of me. But tell me there’s a chance, tell me that someday"
"I can’t." My voice broke. "I can’t give you hope when I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to trust you again."
"Then don’t trust me yet." Another step closer. "Just... don’t shut the door completely. That’s all I’m asking."
We were too close now. Close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off his bare chest. See the pulse hammering in his throat. Smell the familiar scent of him—something that reminded me of the one night things had been good between us.
"Damien." My voice came out breathless. "We can’t, this is a bad idea."
"I know." But he didn’t move away and neither did I.
"We’re both exhausted, emotionally raw and also not thinking clearly."
"I know," he repeated, his eyes dropping to my mouth.
"If we do this, it doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t fix what’s broken."
"I know." His hand came up to cup my face, thumb brushing across my cheekbone. "Tell me to stop, Aria. Tell me to walk away."
I should. I should absolutely tell him to stop.
But years of being alone, of being strong, of never letting anyone touch me—it all crashed down at once. The adrenaline from the day, the fear, the relief, the desperate need to feel something other than terror.
I grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him down to kiss me.
He made a sound—surprise and hunger and relief all mixed together—and then his arms were around me, pulling me against him, and I was drowning.
The kiss was nothing like the day we first had sex. That had been awkward, fumbling, two strangers going through motions.
This was way different. His hands tangled in my hair. Mine explored the muscles of his back, feeling them flex under my touch. When his tongue swept into my mouth, I gasped, and he swallowed the sound.
"Aria," he breathed against my lips. "Are you sure?"
No. I wasn’t sure about anything but I nodded anyway.
He kissed me again, deeper this time, then pulled back just enough to speak. "Not here, not in the hallway where Noah might wake up and see."
Right, Noah . We were supposed to be responsible parents.
Damien took my hand and led me down the hall, past the guest room, to his master suite at the end. The door clicked shut behind us, and suddenly reality hit.
I was in Damien Blackwood’s bedroom. About to sleep with the man who’d destroyed me years ago.
"We don’t have to," Damien said, reading my hesitation. "Aria, if you’re not ready, if this is moving too fast"
"Shut up." I kissed him again, silencing his doubts and mine. "Stop talking and just... just make me feel something other than fear."
He pulled out to the tip and slammed back in, again and again. The bedframe smashed the wall in rhythm. His balls slapped my clit every time he bottomed out.
"Fuck—fuck—Aria" he grunted with every stroke.
I reached back as my nails into his thigh. "Harder, damn it."
He snarled, gripped my hips hard enough to leave fingerprints, and started pounding like he wanted to split me in half. My pussy fluttered around him, soaking the condom as wet sounds filled the room—filthy and loud.
He reached under me, two fingers on my clit, rubbing rough circles. I came instantly, my vision whiting out, walls clamping down so hard he cursed and almost lost rhythm.
But he didn’t stop. He fucked me through it until I was sobbing, oversensitive and pushing back for more.
He pulled out suddenly as I whined at the emptiness. Then he flipped me onto my back, shoved my knees to my chest, and drove back in. Face to face now, I saw everything—sweat rolling down his temples, his jaw that was clenched.
"Look at me," he ordered.
I did, I couldn’t look away. He fucked me so deep I felt him in my throat. My tits bounced with every thrust. He bent, sucked my nipple so hard so that I came again, screaming his name, pussy gushing around his cock.
He kept going at a fast pace. The headboard was denting the wall now. I shoved at his chest. "I want on top."
He rolled us without pulling out. I straddled him, sank down slow, feeling every inch stretch me open again. His head fell back as his hands gripped my ass so hard it hurt.
I started riding him hard. Up—slam—down. Up—slam—down. My thighs burned, my clit ground against his pelvis on every drop. His cock hit so deep I saw stars.
He slapped my ass. "Faster."
I went wild. Hair sticking to my face as my tits bounced in his face; he caught one, sucked the nipple until I shrieked. His other hand found my clit again, pinching, rolling.
I was close—so close.
"Come on my cock, Aria," he growled. "Milk me dry."
I exploded and screamed until my voice cracked. Pussy spasming, squirting all over his thighs. He roared, hips bucking up, cock throbbing inside the condom as he came hard, holding me down so I took every pulse.

Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: The CEO's Rejected Wife And Secret Heir
For someone who is supposed to be all powerful and ruthless, Damien is so lame. Marcus has outsmarted him too many times to count. Good thing i'm mainly here for the romance....