Where Darkness Learned Breath by Rylor Dusk 120

120 Chapter 120: Public 

Perception 

Damien pov 

I twisted the shower handle to scalding. Steam billowed up instantly, thick and hot, fogging the glass. I stripped out of the tuxedo in rough, impatient movements–jacket, shirt, belt, pants, boxers—all hitting the marble floor in a careless heap. My cock sprang free, heavy and flushed dark, the tip glistening, veins standing out in stark relief. I stepped under the punishing spray without waiting for it to warm fully; the burn against my skin was almost welcome. 

One hand slapped against the slate tile wall for balance. The other wrapped around my shaft- tight, almost punishing. I gave one long, slow stroke from root to tip, spreading the slickness leaking from the slit, and a ragged groan tore out 

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of me. 

“Aria…” 

Her name tasted like sin on my tongue. 

I pictured her on her knees in front of me–right here, water streaming over her dark hair, turning it sleek and black as ink. Those striking eyes looking up at me while her perfect lips stretched around my cock, cheeks hollowing as she sucked me deep. I imagined the wet heat of her mouth, the flutter of her tongue under the sensitive ridge, the way she’d gag just a little when I hit the back of her throat and still keep going because she wanted to please me. 

My hand moved faster–harder–twisting at the head on every upstroke the way she used to do with those clever fingers before she took me in her mouth. I remembered the way she’d moan around me, the vibration shooting straight to my 

balls. 

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“Fuck–yes–just like that” 

My hips jerked forward into my fist. Water pounded against my shoulders, my back, my ass. Heat coiled low and vicious in my gut. 

I imagined flipping her around instead–bending her over, hands braced on the bench, ass up, thighs spread. Sliding into her from behind in one brutal thrust, feeling her tight cunt open around me, ripple and flutter, milking me. Imagined 

gripping her hips hard enough to bruise, fucking her relentlessly while I reached around to rub her clit in tight circles until she screamed my name and came so hard she soaked my thighs. 

The fantasy snapped the last thread. 

I came with a choked, guttural groan–her name ripped from my throat like a confession. Thick ropes of cum painted the tile in front of me, pulse after pulse, my balls drawing up tight as pleasure ripped through me in violent waves. My knees 

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nearly buckled. 

I braced both hands on the wall now, head hanging, chest heaving under the relentless 

spray. 

But even as the aftershocks faded, my cock twitched–already thickening again, already hungry. 

It wasn’t enough. 

It would never be enough until it was her—her hands, her mouth, her pussy, her cries. 

“Fuck,” I muttered, forehead dropping to the cool tile. Water streamed down my face, mixing with sweat. “This is going to be a long fucking night.” 

And tomorrow? 

Tomorrow I’d start again. Slower. Smarter. I’d earn every inch of her trust back, every moan, every surrender. 

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Because when I finally got inside her–when she finally let me claim her the way we both needed- I wasn’t stopping until she understood one irrefutable truth: 

She was mine. 

And I was never letting her go again. 

Aria’s POV – The Next Morning 

The headlines were everywhere. 

I sat at the breakfast table, phone in one hand, coffee in the other, scrolling through article after article while Noah ate his cereal beside me. 

“BLACKWOOD–MONROE MERGER: Business or 

Pleasure?” 

“Ice King Melts for Former Wife at Charity Gala” 

“Ravenwood’s Power Couple Reunites: Inside Their Passionate Dance” 

But it was the photos that made my stomach flip. 

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Dozens of them–Damien’s hand on my back, possessive and warm. Us dancing, bodies pressed together, his forehead nearly touching mine. The look in his eyes that clearly said he wanted to devour me. 

And one particularly devastating shot: the moment right before we’d been interrupted, when his lips had been inches from mine, when I’d been looking at him like he was oxygen and I was drowning. 

“Mama, why do you look worried?” Noah asked around a mouthful of cereal. 

“I’m not worried, baby.” I set down my phone. “Just reading boring news stuff.” 

“About you and Daddy?” He swallowed. “Dora showed me pictures on her phone. You guys looked really pretty.” 

“Dora shouldn’t have” I stopped myself. Of course the entire staff had seen the photos. The entire 

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city had seen them. “Yes, about me and Daddy.” 

“Everyone’s saying you’re in love.” Noah said it matter–of–factly. “Dora says it’s obvious.” 

“Dora talks too much.” But I was smiling despite myself. 

“Are you?” Noah set down his spoon, looking at me with those devastating blue eyes. “In love with Daddy? Like in the movies?” 

How was I supposed to answer that? My four–year–old son was asking me to define feelings I barely understood myself. 

“It’s complicated, baby.” I brushed hair from his forehead. “Grown–up feelings are messy.” 

“Mr. Peterson says love isn’t messy,” Noah argued. “He says it’s simple. You just have to be brave enough to say it.” 

“Mr. Peterson has opinions on everything, doesn’t he?” I laughed softly. “But Noah, here’s the thing- 

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yes, I care about your daddy very much. And yes, we’re figuring out how to be a family. But love?” I paused. “Love takes time, and trust. We’re still building that.” 

“But you’re gonna build it all the way?” His voice 

was anxious now. “You’re not gonna stop 

halfway?” 

My heart cracked. “No, baby. We’re not going to stop halfway. I promise.” 

“Good.” He went back to his cereal, satisfied. “‘Cause I like when we’re all together, even when you and Daddy are being weird.” 

“We’re not being weird” 

“You totally are.” Olivia’s voice came from the doorway. She held up her phone, showing me the same photos I’d been studying. “This is the least professional merger announcement in history. You two looked like you were about to have sex on the dance floor.” 

F: 

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“Noah’s right here!” I hissed. 

“Noah, go play with your dinosaurs for a minute,” Olivia said. “Grown–up talk.” 

“About Mama and Daddy being weird?” Noah grinned. 

“Exactly.” She waited until he’d run off, then sank into the chair across from me. “Aria. Those pictures. That’s not ‘taking it slow.‘ That’s ‘one spark away from combustion.” 

“I know.” I buried my face in my hands. “It just happened. We were dancing, and he was saying all these things, and I just” 

“Wanted to jump him?” Olivia supplied helpfully. 

“Yes. No. Maybe.” I looked up. “Liv, I’m so confused. One minute I’m trying to maintain professional boundaries, the next I’m melting because he’s touching my back.” 

“That’s called sexual tension, honey.” She sipped 

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my coffee without asking. “And you’ve got enough of it to power the entire city.” 

“It’s more than that though.” I stood, pacing. “Last night, when we were dancing, it felt like… like coming home. Like my body remembered his, and my heart remembered what it felt like to be wanted by him.” 

“So what’s the problem?” 

“The problem is that wanting someone and trusting them are different things.” I turned to face her. “What if I let myself fall completely, and 

he.” 

“Hurts you again?” Olivia’s voice was gentle. “Aria, that’s always the risk. But from what I’ve seen, that man is doing everything possible to prove he’s changed.” 

“I know.” I sank back into my chair. “Which almost makes it worse. Because if I believe him, if I trust him, and he betrays me again—” My voice 

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cracked. “I won’t survive it, Liv. Not a second 

time.” 

“Then don’t think of it as trusting him completely,” she said. “Think of it as trusting yourself to handle whatever happens. You 

survived the first time. You built an empire. You raised Noah alone. You’re not that broken girl he threw out anymore.” 

“No.” I smiled slightly. “I’m definitely not.” 

“So stop being scared of your own feelings.” She reached across the table, squeezing my hand. “Stop letting fear of what might happen keep you from what could happen. You deserve to be happy, Aria. You deserve love. Real love. Not the broken, damaged version from before, but the kind that makes you stronger instead of smaller.” 

“When did you get so wise?” 

“I’ve always been wise.” She grinned. “You just never listen to me.” 

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My phone buzzed with a text from Damien. 

“Saw the headlines. Sorry if the photos make you uncomfortable. For what it’s worth, I’m not sorry about the dance itself. Or any of it. -D” 

I smiled despite myself. 

“The photos are… everywhere. Noah’s preschool teacher probably saw them.” 

“Good. Let him know you’re taken.” 

“I’m not ‘taken. We’re business partners.” 

“Business partners don’t look at each other like that. And Aria? I’m done pretending we’re just anything. I want you. I’m in love with you. Everyone at that gala could see it. Might as well stop denying it.” 

My heart hammered. He was being so direct, so honest. No games, no manipulation. Just raw 

truth. 

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“You can’t just declare things and expect me to 

fall in line.” 

“I’m not expecting you to fall in line. I’m telling you how I feel and hoping eventually you’ll feel safe enough to tell me how you feel too. No pressure. Just truth.” 

“What’s he saying?” Olivia leaned over, trying to read my phone. 

“That he’s in love with me.” I set down the phone. “That everyone could see it last night.” 

“And?” She raised an eyebrow. “What did you say 

back?” 

“I don’t know what to say.” I looked at her helplessly. “Part of me wants to say it back. To just jump in and stop overthinking everything. But the other part”