**Chapter 10** *Misty* I down the shot Ethan hands me, a fiery liquid that sears its way down my throat. Tonight was supposed to be a release, a break from the relentless grind. When I stepped out of the office, Nicholas had been waiting, arms raised in defeat as I stormed towards him. His laughter echoed in my ears when I boldly declared I’d find my own way home. “Take it up with the boss,” he had smirked, “Unless you want me fired, get in the car.” His words had been clear: there was no escaping tonight. I managed to dodge him at home, sneaking out through the side exit and walking briskly until I was far enough to call for an Uber. I had a nagging feeling that if Damon caught wind of my plans, he’d douse my fun before it even ignited. “Easy there. That’s your third one,” Carter cautioned, concern shadowing his features as he observed me from across the bar. When he lured me out with the team, I had expected more than just him and a couple of his friends. Yet, as the shots piled up, I found I didn’t mind their absence. What I truly craved tonight was space to breathe, the chance to forget the weight of demanding bosses and the suffocating urgency of visa applications. So, I lost myself to the pulsating rhythm of the music, surrendering to the bass that thumped through my very bones. With each drink, the worry of losing everything faded into the background, replaced by a thrilling sense of freedom. I closed my eyes, letting the world drift away, lost in the beat. Grabbing Carter’s hand, I tugged him towards the dance floor, the heat of his palm igniting something inside me. He maneuvered behind me, his broad frame aligning with mine as he pulled me closer. A gasp escaped my lips at the sensation of his body pushing against my lower back, the rhythm of the music guiding our movements. But, beneath the excitement, a sense of unease settled like a fog. Carter’s cologne, grounded and forest-like, wafted around me, but it wasn’t him I was longing to be close to. My mind betrayed me with visions of Damon’s stormy eyes and the tantalizing hint of his scent. Shaking my head as if to clear a fog, I interrupted our dance, stepping away from Carter, who immediately seemed perplexed. “Did I read you wrong?” he asked, his brow furrowed in confusion. “Not at all. Just... too many shots hitting my head. I’ll be right back,” I assured him, though the flutter in my stomach belied my confidence. “Sure you’re alright?” he pressed, his warmth trying to wrap around me, but I felt none of it sinking deep. “Absolutely. I just need a moment.” I reassured, gesturing for him to return to his friends. With that, I rushed off into the night, desperate to detach from the lingering closeness. But as I turned the corner, I collided with an immovable force—a hard, breathing wall. My gaze traveled up the smooth fabric of a crisp black dress shirt, landing on a familiar face. Damon stood there, looking every bit the conqueror, his piercing gray eyes narrowing in irritation. “Eyes up here, Nymph,” he murmured, his breath cascading over my ear in a way that sent shivers racing down my spine. “I took an Uber,” I managed to say, albeit stumbling over the words. “I snuck out. Please don’t blame Nicholas.” He sighed, his frustration rolling off him like a wave. “We’re going.” Carter piped up from the sidelines. “Hey, Mr. Everette. She’s with me,” he declared, a hint of defensiveness in his tone. Damon's glare fixed on me, a taut muscle in his jaw giving away just how much control he was trying to wield. “Is that right? Are you with him?” His voice dripped with authority, an unmistakable command drowning out my descent into uncertainty. “Carter, I’ll be right back,” I called, yet it felt futile as Damon’s hand clamped around my waist, lifting me effortlessly off the ground, my heart racing in both excitement and terror. “Put me down!” I squealed, squirming, but instead, he hoisted me higher, my stomach protesting at the shift. “That’s not happening,” he growled, dismissing my protests as he maneuvered through the crowd with the ease of a king unbothered by the masses. A sharp smack against my backside caught me off guard and I winced, splashes of heat pooling beneath my skin as my instincts reacted against his touch. “You can’t do that!” I cried, both indignation and unexpected desire intertwining. “Don’t move.” His grip was firm, the sting morphing into a throbbing ache, an electric pulse darting through me. I twisted, determined to fight my embarrassment as he stopped to speak with a towering man clad in a sharp suit and earpiece. I strained to hear snippets of conversation, my heart racing when Damon mentioned, “Three guys… banned… now.” It felt surreal that I would find myself entangled in this mighty world of dominance and authority, wishing to vanish against the wall until I realized I was still very much in Damon’s grip. “Where are you taking me?” I whimpered, my voice barely above a hush. “To sober up,” he replied grimly, his hand tightening once more. “Thanks?” I said, half question, half statement, hoping to mask my rising embarrassment; my pulse spiked as he locked the door behind us, the muffled club music fading away into the background. “What were you thinking?” he uttered, frustration lacing his voice. “Um… Honestly? That I needed to get laid.” The words slipped out before I could stop them, and his sharp intake of breath was tangible in the air, causing me to recoil. He set me down and closed the distance between us, his intense gaze almost tangible. “You came here to hook up with some guy?” An icy chill washed over me, panic crashing into my head like a tidal wave. “I mean, I didn’t know it was your club…” I stumbled over my words, feeling the embarrassment heat my cheeks. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose, a sign of frustration boiling over. Tension radiated from him, and I felt the gravity of the moment shift. Before I could process what was happening, he crowded into my space and pressed me against the glass, the world outside fading into insignificance. His lips crushed against mine with a ferocity that startled me—it was a claim, a demand, igniting every nerve ending in my body. I found myself responding with equal fervor, the thrill of confusion and recklessness carrying me away. Damon’s hands found their way to my neck, pressing me deeper into his kiss while he explored the curve of my body, teasing and taunting in a way that made me forget everything—except him. Suddenly, he pulled back, breathless and searching my eyes. “I’m marking you,” he whispered, determination lacing his words as he left his mark on my neck, inciting a mix of arousal and alarm that melted away all sense of rationality. “If you need to come, you come to me,” he commanded. Those words rolled through me, morsels of lust between threads of uncertainty. “Why—?” I started, but he cut me off with another commanding kiss, lifting me so I was enveloped in his warmth, his hips grinding against mine in a perfect rhythm that drove me to madness. As the sound of the bustling world dimmed to a distant echo, it was just us—and whatever we were becoming—lost in this intoxicating moment where nothing else mattered.