Seraphina’s POV
The morning sun streaming through my bedroom curtains felt different sohow—warr, more golden, like the entire world had shifted on its axis overnight. I stretched languidly beneath my sheets, every muscle in my body deliciously sore in ways that made blush even though I was alone. The scent of sandalwood still clung to my pillows, a heady reminder of everything that had transpired between Damien and just hours before.
"Good morning, sunshine," Ayla purred in my mind, her ntal voice practically dripping with satisfied smugness. "How are you feeling?"
Heat flooded my cheeks as mories from the previous night crashed over in vivid detail—Damien’s hands on my skin, his mouth trailing fire down my throat, the exquisite stretch and burn as he’d claid against my bedroom door with a passion that had left breathless and shaking.
I muttered, though even I could hear how unconvincing that sounded. "It was just..."
"Just what? Just the most intense, earth-shattering sex of our entire existence?" Ayla’s laughter echoed through my consciousness. "Face it, Sera—that man is ours now, whether we’re ready to admit it or not."
I rolled over and buried my face in the pillow that still slled like him, fighting the urge to stay in bed all day and relive every mont. But reality intruded in the form of Adrian’s cheerful voice calling from the kitchen.
"Mommy! I made coffee!"
The panic that shot through was imdiate and intense. "Adrian!" I called back, scrambling out of bed and throwing on my robe. "Sweetheart, you’re not supposed to touch the coffee maker!"
I rushed to the kitchen, only to find my four-year-old son standing proudly beside our small coffee maker with a steaming mug in his hands.
"I wanted to surprise you," he said, his face glowing with achievent. "Mr. Damien showed how to push the buttons last night after you fell asleep."
"He did, did he?"
"Uh-huh!" Adrian bounced excitedly on his toes. "He said good coffee was important for hardworking mommies. He also taught how to butter toast without tearing it!"
Sure enough, there was a plate of perfectly buttered toast waiting on the counter, along with Adrian’s favorite strawberry jam arranged in a neat little pattern.
"That was very thoughtful of both of you," I said softly, accepting the mug and taking a careful sip. It was actually quite good. "Did you eat breakfast already?"
"I had cereal and orange juice," Adrian reported dutifully. "Mr. Damien said I should let you sleep because you had a very hard week."
An hour later, I stood in the executive elevator at Nightshadow Industries, trying to ignore the way my pulse quickened with each passing floor. My lips seed fuller, still slightly swollen from Damien’s kisses, and there was a glow to my skin that had nothing to do with expensive costics.
The elevator chid softly as it reached the executive floor. I stepped into the familiar marble corridor, noting with relief that Anna’s desk was empty. Apparently, she was running late this morning—a small blessing that would give a few peaceful monts to collect myself before facing whatever fresh hell she’d cooked up.
"Good morning, Seraphina," Claire’s warm voice greeted as I settled into my desk chair. "You look... radiant today. Did you sleep well?"
Heat flooded my cheeks at the knowing glint in her eyes. "Very well, thank you," I managed, grateful when my computer screen gave sothing to focus on besides Claire’s amused expression.
I’d barely opened my email when I heard the distinctive sound of Damien’s office door opening. Every nerve ending in my body suddenly ca alive, hyperaware of his presence even though I kept my eyes fixed firmly on my monitor.
"Good morning, ladies," his deep voice carried that familiar note of authority, but when I finally looked up, the intensity in his blue eyes was focused entirely on . "Seraphina, could I see you for a mont?"
Professional. Casual. As if he hadn’t been buried inside just hours earlier, claiming with a passion that had left fingernail marks on his shoulders and my na torn from his throat like a prayer.
"Of course, Mr. Nightshadow," I replied, proud of how steady my voice sounded even as my pulse hamred against my ribs.
I followed him into his office, hyperaware of the way his expensive suit molded to his broad shoulders and the mory of what all those perfectly tailored clothes concealed. The mont the door clicked shut behind us, the professional facade fell away like a discarded mask.
Damien moved with predatory grace, closing the distance between us in two quick strides. His hands frad my face with devastating gentleness, and then his mouth was on mine—hot, demanding, completely possessive. I lted into him with embarrassing eagerness, my hands fisting in his shirt as he deepened the kiss until I was dizzy with want.
"I’ve been thinking about you all morning," he murmured against my lips, his voice rough with barely controlled desire. "About the way you felt in my arms, the sounds you made..."
"Damien," I breathed, though whether it was a protest or encouragent, I couldn’t say. "We’re at work. Anyone could—"
"Let them," he growled, his mouth finding the sensitive spot behind my ear that made gasp. "Let the whole damn building know you’re mine."
His hands slid down to cup my ass through my pencil skirt, pulling flush against the hard ridge of his arousal. The casual possessiveness of the gesture, combined with the intoxicating heat of his body pressed against mine, made rational thought nearly impossible.
"Is this your idea of professional conduct?" I managed to ask, though my breathless tone undermined any attempt at reproach.
"Absolutely not," he admitted with that devastating smile. "But I’ve discovered I don’t care about professional conduct when it cos to you."
He backed against his desk, his hands roaming with increasingly bold familiarity. The cool mahogany pressed against my thighs as he lifted easily, settling on the edge while his mouth blazed a trail down my throat.
"Damien," I gasped, my fingers tangling in his thick hair as heat pooled low in my belly. "We can’t do this here. Claire is right outside, and Anna will be back soon..."
"Then we’ll have to be quiet," he murmured, his hands already working at the buttons of my silk blouse. "Think you can manage that, erald eyes?"
The challenge in his voice sent electricity shooting straight to my core. Part of —the professional, responsible part—knew this was insane. We were in his office in broad daylight, separated from the rest of the floor by nothing but a glass partition and a door that anyone could walk through.
But the larger part of , the part that had been starved for this kind of desperate passion, didn’t care about the risks.
I was just reaching for his belt when a sharp knock on the door made us both freeze.
"Alpha?" Claire’s voice carried through the mahogany, carefully neutral but with an undertone that suggested she knew exactly what we’d been doing. "I have the Morrison contracts ready for your review."
Damien closed his eyes and rested his forehead against mine, both of us breathing hard. "Give five minutes, Claire," he called back, his voice remarkably steady considering the state we were both in.
"Of course, Alpha."
I slid off the desk on unsteady legs, my hands shaking as I rebuttoned my blouse and tried to restore so semblance of professional dignity to my appearance. Damien watched with eyes that promised this interruption was only temporary, that we would finish what we’d started.
He moved back behind his desk, putting safe distance between us, but his heated gaze never left my face. "Actually, before Claire cos in, there’s sothing I wanted to discuss with you. About what happened with Valerie."
"What about it?" I asked carefully.
"Tell everything you rember about that night. Every detail, no matter how strange it seed."
So I did. I described the rage that had consud when Valerie threatened Adrian, the way sothing primal had awakened in my blood. Damien listened without interruption, his expression growing more thoughtful with each detail.
"And this has never happened before?" he asked when I finished.
"Never. I’ve always been exactly what everyone expected—a weak oga who couldn’t defend herself against a determined housecat." I paused.
Damien was quiet for a long mont, his analytical mind clearly processing the implications. "Sera," he said finally, "I think it’s ti we found out exactly what you are."
"What do you an?"
A slow smile spread across his face, transforming his features from handso to absolutely devastating. "I an I’m giving you a new assignnt. Effective imdiately, you’re going to spend your afternoons training with my warriors."
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