CHAPTER 40: UNDER HER CONTROL

– Damien –

I could hardly contain my excitement as the plane touched down at NAIA. Finally—home. The buzz of the airport seemed almost distant, overshadowed by the thought of seeing her again. I waited for my luggage, pulling three hefty bags onto a cart, each one packed with care. With a final glance to make sure nothing was left behind, I rolled the cart toward the exit.

And there she was.

Laura—my girl—waving at me like a beacon. She wore casual pants and a simple top, yet somehow, she looked like a goddess descended from the clouds. The moment our eyes met, she rushed toward me. I barely had time to step away from the cart before she leapt into my arms. I caught her effortlessly, spinning her once as I buried my face in her neck, inhaling that familiar scent I’d missed every day. She squealed with joy, wriggling in my hold.

"YES! Let’s go home!" she beamed.

I laughed, unable to resist teasing her. "Are you more excited to see the luggage than me?"

She grinned wickedly. "Of course."

I kissed her nose, light and affectionate. "Charming as ever."

"Oh—and I have a lunch meeting," she added quickly. "So let’s head home while it’s still early."

I nodded, setting her down gently. Just as I turned, I spotted someone approaching—Logan. He came straight for Laura, brushing past me as if I were just another traveler in his way. He pulled her into a hug.

"Hey, Logan!" Laura chirped. "Wanna ride with us?"

"Sure," he said, grinning as he slung his bag onto my cart like it belonged there. He casually threw an arm around her shoulder and started walking—with her. Leaving me behind.

I narrowed my eyes at him, jaw clenched. Laura might see him as family, but to me, he was just another man getting too close to what’s mine.

At the parking lot, our driver Kai hopped out to help with the luggage. Logan kept Laura laughing and entertained, as if he hadn’t noticed me at all. Kai took the wheel, and I slid open the van’s side door.

"You can sit in front," Logan offered.

I ignored him, slipping into the backseat without a word. Laura joined me seconds later, sliding next to me and flashing that grin that made my heart thud.

"Tell me about Tyrona and Carrie!" she said, eyes sparkling with curiosity.

I smirked, my hand gliding over her thigh. She leaned in, mischievous fingers just beginning to trail toward my crotch. My pulse jumped. Damn, this woman didn’t waste a second.

"Forget about them," I said, leaning in to press a loud, obnoxious kiss on her lips—partly for affection, partly to make Logan uncomfortable. It worked. She smacked my chest and laughed, completely at ease with me.

This man—Logan? He could glare all he wanted. Laura was mine. She would marry me. Not him. Not ever.

"You woke up early just to pick me up?" I asked, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

"Of course. I was excited about the things you brought back."

I recline my seat with a satisfied sigh and patted my chest. She giggled, then straddled me without hesitation, curling up on top like she belonged there—which she did. Her breathing slowed against me, and in a matter of minutes, she fell asleep.

Logan glanced back and shot daggers at me with his eyes. I just smiled.

He didn’t know.

He had no idea what we had. Laura and I? We didn’t just kiss or cuddle. We made love like animals in heat. And it was beautiful.

I ran a hand gently through her hair as she slept soundly on my chest. My heart swelled with possessiveness and peace.

When we reached Livana’s mini-mansion, I carried Laura out like a bride. She clung to me, arms around my neck, legs around my waist—my little koala. Logan tried to step in.

"I’ll take her," he said, reaching for her.

"I’ve got her," I said firmly. "We share a room, don’t you know?"

His aura darkened. Good.

I carried Laura inside, straight to her room, and kicked the door closed behind us. The luggage was already there. Perfect. I laid her down on the bed, careful as ever, then headed to the bathroom for a quick shower.

When I stepped back out, towel around my waist, the sight that greeted me nearly knocked the breath from my lungs.

Laura lay sprawled on the bed, bathed in dim light, wearing blood-red lace lingerie that hugged every curve like it was made for her alone. She rolled onto her side with a soft moan, her hair deliciously tousled.

"Laura," I murmured, half-laughing, half-mesmerized. "I haven’t even recovered from jet lag yet."

She bit her lip and arched an eyebrow. "What’s jetlag... when your girlfriend’s this sexy and horny?"

"You’re always horny."

"I have a sexy boyfriend." She winked.

I dropped the towel without hesitation and climbed over her, kissing her face—her cheeks, her lips, her jaw. I took my time, savoring the feel of her. The lace brasserie was sheer perfection against her fair skin. I slid it aside, revealing pink nipples that were begging for attention. I took her in my mouth, savoring every reaction.

"More," she whimpered. "I want more, Damien. Just fuck me, okay?"

"No," I whispered against her skin. "We make love."

She moaned, cupping my face. "Then make love to me... please."

I kissed her deeply. "Yes, baby."

When I spread her legs, I found the crotchless surprise she’d hidden for me.

"Oh, god..." I groaned. "You are so fucking beautiful."

She giggled wickedly. "Then do it, Damien."

We made love.

It wasn’t quiet. It never was. But afterward, I made sure she was warm, cozy, and wrapped in pajamas before I stepped out of the room.

Logan was there.

Waiting.

I smiled. "Logan. Are you a pervert now?"

Without warning, he grabbed me by the throat and slammed me against the wall. His grip tightened. His face—normally charming—was now contorted with rage.

"Why are you fucking Laura?" he hissed.

I didn’t flinch. I grinned, letting my fingers lightly brush his face, just to make him recoil.

"Because Laura is mine."

"You shouldn’t be—"

"Why?" I asked, raising a brow. "Because I’m a Blackwell? Don’t worry. I’m only half."

He dropped me, but shoved me back with his forearm, still seething.

The bedroom door creaked open. Laura stepped out, robe barely tied, her expression dark.

"Logan? What are you doing?" she asked, voice laced with confusion and warning.

I stepped to her side and gently covered her chest. "Don’t walk around with your boobs hanging out, babe."

She rolled her eyes. "Logan, be nice, okay?"

"You and your sister just tainted yourselves with a Blackwell," he muttered bitterly.

Laura’s expression shifted instantly—cold, deadly.

"Take back your words, or I’ll kill you."

Her voice sent shivers down my spine. God, she was sexy when she was pissed. I glanced down. Yep. My cock agreed.

– Livana –

I woke to more light than usual. A subtle brightness bleeding into my darkened world. Not quite vision—but something. The ever-present blur that was my sight had softened; the dense black spot in the center faded slightly, just enough to hint at shapes and shadows.

Warm breath grazed the back of my neck.

My husband.

His arms were wrapped around my waist, one hand casually cupping my breast like it belonged there—like it always did. He held me possessively, even in sleep. As I shifted slightly, I could make out the contour of his jaw, the rough silhouette of half his face. My boy toy. Beautiful, obedient, and—most importantly—mine to command.

He pleased me well enough. Used my body as I allowed. It was a fair exchange. A transactional intimacy wrapped in lust and skin.

I leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek—a calculated gesture. One of many tricks to keep him tethered to me.

"Good morning, baby," he murmured against my skin, immediately showering me with kisses like a lovesick fool.

"What time is it?" I asked, voice half-lazy, half-curious.

"Mmm..." he hummed as he shifted, gently pinning me back against the mattress to glance at the clock. "Nine."

"The malls open in about two hours," I muttered, my fingers brushing lazily against his arm. "We’ve got that lunch reservation at twelve. Get me some warm water."

"Coming right up, my Goddess," he said with a kiss to my lips. I watched him move, his figure visible just enough through the haze of my vision.

He walked off—completely naked. His butt was firm and—

I couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking my head as I leaned back. Sitting up made the world tilt slightly. Low blood sugar, probably. I hadn’t eaten since last night.

"Why are you laughing, baby?" he asked from across the room.

"Are you naked right now?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

"Baby, I’m always naked when we’re alone."

Just the thought of his morning hardness made me cringe.

"I woke up like this," he continued proudly. "Morning wood’s not a myth, love."

Always with the sex. Always.

I hadn’t even had my water yet.

He returned and sat beside me, guiding my hand to the mug. The warmth seeped into my fingers as I sipped, letting the heat settle in my stomach. He kissed my cheek again, and—of course—his hands found my breasts like magnets.

"It’s time for my eye drops," I said, deadpan.

"I’ll get them," he offered quickly, kissing me once more before stepping away. "So... are they helping?"

"They’re soothing."

"That’s good. I’ll book another appointment soon. Let me know if you see anything—anything at all. Even a flicker of light."

"Mm-hmm. I’ll let you know," I lied smoothly. He didn’t need to know about the light. Not yet.

I drained the rest of the water and handed him the mug. "Let me wash my face. I also need to pee."

"Okay, baby." Without hesitation, he lifted me in his arms and carried me to the bathroom.

I sighed and waved him off. He finally gave me a sliver of privacy. Good. I could manage. I wasn’t helpless—I still had control.

I washed up quickly, dried off, and shuffled to the sink. That’s when the door creaked open again.

"Do you need help, love?" His voice, that low reverent tone, filled the air.

"Yeah," I said, turning slightly. "We could make love here. Might help with your little problem."

"Oh, hell... that’s sexy," he growled.

I heard his footsteps approach, then felt him wrap himself around me from behind, heat radiating from every inch of his body. I smirked.

"How do you want it, baby?" he whispered, pressing into me.

His touch made my body hum. Every nerve responded like it belonged to him. It was ridiculous. This man could make me come—but not love. Never love.

Love was a lie men told themselves when their brains short-circuited from desire. All it took was a warm body and a soft voice, and they folded.

He wasn’t special.

"From behind," I said coolly.

He kissed my earlobe, his hands greedily squeezing my breasts. "I love you, okay? Remember that."

Fuck love.

Men would still shove their dicks on a bare pussy no matter who it was.