---
The Key felt cold in Ava's palm.
She stared at it for what felt like hours, but her thoughts were fragmented, scattered. The night had blurred—fragments of his hands on her, his voice in her ear, the way her body had responded to him.
But the key… it was heavier than it looked.
Room 23.
Ava knew she couldn't ignore it. Damien had laid down a challenge, a promise, and a dare. She had no choice but to follow.
---
When she arrived at the address listed on the key card, the building was imposing—ancient and sleek, towering above her like a creature with a secret. The air around her seemed to pulse as if it was alive, vibrating with anticipation.
She stood at the door of Room 23. It was silent, but the hum of electricity buzzed in her ears, a faint undertone that made her heart race.
The key slid easily into the lock, and as the door creaked open, she was enveloped by dim lighting and velvet shadows. The room smelled faintly of jasmine and leather—an odd combination that made her skin tingle.
The walls were lined with bookshelves, each book carefully arranged, but the shelves were all empty except for one thing—a single chair placed right in the middle of the room.
Ava's chest tightened, and she hesitated. Her pulse quickened. There was no one here, yet the tension in the room was palpable. She was being watched.
Then the door clicked shut behind her.
---
Damien's voice broke the silence like a whip crack.
"Take your clothes off."
It wasn't a suggestion. It wasn't an order. It was an undeniable truth, and her body knew it. No hesitation. She undid the buttons of her blouse, the zipper of her skirt, sliding everything off until she stood before him, exposed, vulnerable—no longer the woman who'd walked in.
She was his now.
Damien stepped into view, his silhouette tall and commanding in the shadowed light. His eyes darkened when they met hers—burning with something that felt ancient. Dangerous.
"Sit," he ordered, pointing to the chair.
Ava obeyed, feeling her pulse spike in her throat. The chair felt cold beneath her skin, the air thick with the unspoken promise of what was to come.
Damien stood before her, studying her. His hands didn't touch her. Not yet.
He just watched.
And Ava was left squirming under the weight of his gaze, her body growing hot, needy. It wasn't even sexual yet, but every part of her craved the release he promised.
"You've been so eager to disobey," he said softly, his voice like velvet, dragging across her skin. "But tonight, I will make you understand what happens when you want to play this game."
Her breath hitched, the words falling heavy in her chest. She wanted to speak, to protest, but she didn't. His presence demanded silence. His gaze demanded compliance.
Damien stepped closer, his hand coming to rest on the back of her neck, fingers firm but gentle. "You think you're in control of your body," he whispered. "But I'm the one who owns it now."
Ava's eyes fluttered shut, her skin prickling with the heat of his words. She wanted to tell him to stop, to pull away, but something deep inside of her—something she couldn't even understand—wanted more.
More of him.
More of this.
And before she could even comprehend her own need, his lips brushed against the shell of her ear. "Open your eyes. Watch yourself. Watch what happens when you let go."
---
He slid his hand lower, fingers brushing against the curve of her waist before he grasped her chin, tilting her head back with a slow, deliberate movement. His lips met hers in a kiss that was soft, teasing—but there was a dark, feral edge to it that made her breath catch.
The kiss deepened, becoming urgent, raw. His tongue tangled with hers, a dance of dominance and submission. Ava clung to him, hands gripping his shoulders, needing to feel him pressed against her.
Her nipples tightened under the intensity of his touch, and before she could take a breath, Damien's hands moved down, grasping her thighs, lifting her easily from the chair. He carried her across the room to a large, plush bed, throwing her onto the soft sheets with the same ease as if she weighed nothing.
She didn't even have time to recover before he was over her, his hands circling her wrists, pinning them above her head.
"Tell me what you want," he demanded, his voice low and dangerous.
"I…" Ava's voice was a whisper. "I want you."
"Good girl." His smile was predatory, and then he kissed her again—harder this time.
But just as quickly as he kissed her, he pulled back. His eyes darkened with something primal.
"You want to play, then you will follow my rules." His tone was laced with a promise—a threat.
And Ava knew it was no longer a question of whether she could stop this.
She couldn't. Not anymore. She was already lost in him.
---
The next few hours blurred. Damien was relentless, his dominance complete—pushing her limits, breaking down her barriers until all she knew was him.
It was raw. It was dangerous. But more than anything, it was addictive.
Ava could no longer deny it. She wasn't just here because of the attraction. She was here because Damien had unlocked something inside of her—something she hadn't even known was there.
---
When they finally collapsed into the bed, their bodies tangled in the sheets, Ava's mind spun with what had just happened. Her chest heaved with each breath, still trembling from the intensity.
Damien lay beside her, his fingers lightly tracing the curve of her shoulder. "You did well," he murmured, voice low and possessive.
But then he turned his head, his gaze sharp as he looked at her.
"This is just the beginning, Ava," he said quietly. "You think you know what you want, but soon enough, you'll understand how much more I can give you."
Ava didn't reply. Words didn't feel necessary anymore.
She knew.
Deep down, she knew.
---
[To Be Continued in Episode 4: The Darkest Desire]
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