[ESTELLE]
Contrary to what I had expected, when I woke up, Damien wasn't gone.
He wasn't standing by the window in deep regret, running a frustrated hand through his hair, muttering about mistakes. He wasn't pacing the room, trying to find the right words to tell last night shouldn't have happened.
No.
He was casually sitting on the sofa, legs crossed, face unreadable as he sipped his coffee and read the news like he was in a five-star resort instead of a hotel room where he had spent the entire night wrecking .
On the table before him, a spread of food was neatly arranged—all my favorites. Fruits, pastries, eggs cooked just the way I liked them. Even the coffee slled perfect.
My brain lagged. This . . . wasn't the morning-after scene I had ntally prepared for.
"W-what? What's this?" I croaked, my voice scratchy from last night's—uh—activities.
Damien looked up, his lips quirking into a small, almost amused smile. He set his coffee mug down and stood, walking toward with an ease that made feel even more ridiculous for struggling to sit up.
"You're awake," he noted, as if it wasn't obvious. "You must be hungry. Or would you rather take a bath first?"
I blinked at him. Then blinked again.
"Why are you still here?" I blurted.
His brow lifted. "Should I not be?"
"No! I an—" I stamred. "I just thought you'd leave and then call later to say how you regret everything and that last night was a mistake and blah blah blah—"
"Estelle," he interrupted, exhaling in exasperation. "Just stop talking and take a bath."
I narrowed my eyes at him, suspicious. He was too calm. Too gentle. Too kind. This was too strange. He wasn't even awkward or hesitant. If anything, he looked entirely at ease.
I made a move to get up—only for pain to shoot through my limbs.
"Ah, shit," I groaned, wincing as I clutched my aching body. Even my voice was trembling.
Damien chuckled, the sound low and absolutely maddening. "Looks like you can't walk."
"You think?" I snapped at him, glaring. "You wore out last night! So you have to take care of now." I grinned smugly, waiting for him to argue.
Instead, before I could even react, he scooped up effortlessly into his arms, carrying as if I weighed nothing.
"Wait, wait, I'm not wearing anything—!"
"Like that ever bothered you," he mused, completely unfazed.
Okay, fair point.
Inside, a warm bath was already waiting, steam curling into the air invitingly. Damien gently lowered into the water, his hands careful as if I was fragile. The second the warmth enveloped , my sore muscles practically lted.
"Ahh . . . this feels amazing," I murmured, sinking deeper. Then, unable to help myself, I grinned up at him. "You're being so impossibly kind to . Maybe all that sen I took last night helped you relax, huh? When was the last ti you even got laid?"
A sharp flick of his fingers t my forehead.
"Ow!" I yelped, rubbing the sore spot.
"This mouth of yours is filthy," he muttered, shaking his head. Then, his gaze darkened slightly, and a smirk curled on his lips. "If I didn't experience firsthand that you were a virgin last night, I never would have believed it."
I stuck my tongue out at him. "I'm just a fast learner."
Another flick.
"Ah—stop that!"
"You need discipline."
"Oh? Kinky."
Damien exhaled sharply and pinched the bridge of his nose like he was this close to throwing out of the bath.
I grinned at him, my eyes practically sparkling with excitent. "So . . . does this an we're officially a couple now?"
Damien didn't look surprised. And if he was, he was doing a damn good job of hiding it.
"A couple?" he repeated, raising a brow.
"Well, yeah!" I nodded enthusiastically. "I an, you popped my cherry last night—so hard, by the way, that I can't even walk properly—then I helped you 'de-stress' in the best way possible, even got up close and personal with your, ahem, big junior. Not to ntion, we went at it in all sorts of positions like we were shooting so kind of exclusive adult film and—"
"Alright, alright, I get it," Damien cut in, pinching the bridge of his nose like he was already regretting his life choices.
I bead at him, eyes full of expectation. "So . . . that ans yes?"
Damien stared at for a long mont, his face unreadable. Then, slowly, carefully, he nodded.
That was all I needed to hear.
"OH MY GOD!" I squealed, practically bouncing in place. "This is amazing! You won't regret this! You're going to have the best girlfriend in the entire world! I'll make sure you're happy every single day for the rest of your life. You don't have to worry about a single thing! I'll even start planning our wedding—oh my God, it's going to be legendary!"
"Alright, stop," Damien said, getting to his feet before I could get too carried away. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves."
"What? But that's where we're headed anyway," I argued, crossing my arms. "Why waste ti? Let's just get married now. I an, you've already claid , so I might as well tie you down, too."
I gave him my best innocent smile, but deep down, I was dead serious. There was no way in hell I was letting Stacey sink her claws back into him. Nope. Not happening. Damien was mine now. Forever.
Damien let out a low chuckle, shaking his head like I was just being cute and silly. But oh, if only he knew how serious I was.
"Get cleaned up first," he said, heading for the door. "Let's have breakfast before you co up with any more silly ideas."
Before I could protest, he was gone.
I sank deeper into the warm water, sighing blissfully as I closed my eyes.
Last night had been everything. Every little sche I had pulled, every carefully laid-out plan—it had all led to this mont.
Damien was finally mine.
Sure, he might still have lingering feelings for Stacey. But that didn't matter. I had a lot of ways to make sure that from now on, the only woman on his mind . . . was .
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