Rebirth: Love me Again - Chapter 326

Chapter 326: A Reckless Night
[WARNING! MATURE Content ahead!]

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[ESTELLE]

The hotel was a mistake.

A beautiful, reckless, intoxicating mistake.

We hadn’t planned on it—not consciously, anyway. One minute, we were walking down the dimly lit street, the cool night air wrapping around us, and the next, we were standing in the lobby of a 5-star hotel, Damien slurring out his last name to the receptionist while I tapped my fingers against the counter, pretending this wasn’t the worst—or best—idea I’d had all year.

The elevator ride was silent. Charged.

Damien leaned against the wall, one hand in his pocket, the other rubbing at his temple like he was trying to force out the remnants of whiskey and heartbreak. His tie was gone. His shirt was unbuttoned just enough to be dangerous.

And I? I was in deep, deep trouble.

When the elevator dinged and the doors slid open, neither of us moved right away.

“This is stupid,” he muttered.

“I know,” I whispered.

And yet, we stepped out together.

By the time we reached the hotel room, the air between us was thick with something heavy, something unsaid.

Damien fumbled with the key card, cursing under his breath when it didn’t work the first time. I crossed my arms, watching with an amused smirk.

“Struggling?”

“Shut up.”

The lock finally clicked. The door swung open.

We barely made it inside before it happened.

One second, we were standing near the door, an ocean of restraint between us, and the next, I was against the wall, my breath stolen as Damien’s lips crashed onto mine.

Heat and alcohol. That was the only way to describe it. Heat and whiskey and desperation all tangled into one searing kiss that burned through whatever logic we had left.

His hands found my waist, fingers gripping tight like he was afraid I’d disappear. Mine curled into his shirt, yanking him closer, needing more, needing everything of him.

“Damien—” I gasped against his mouth.

“Shut up,” he growled, before kissing me again, deeper this time, more demanding, as if he was trying to erase every thought in my head but him.

It worked.

We stumbled through the dark room, lips never parting, bumping into furniture, knocking over a lamp that wobbled precariously before settling. Neither of us cared.

His jacket hit the floor. My heels followed.

His lips traced along my jaw, down my neck, sending shivers racing down my spine. My fingers tangled in his already messy hair, pulling, guiding, desperate.

“This is—” His breath was ragged as he pressed me against the bed, hovering over me. “This is a bad idea.”

I met his gaze, dark and stormy, and smirked. “Then stop.”

He didn’t.

Instead, he kissed me again, and suddenly, nothing else mattered.

Not Kelsey. Not the past. Not the consequences waiting for us in the morning.

Just this. Just us.

I knew Damien was only acting on the reckless impulse of alcohol, his judgment clouded by liquor and heartbreak. But did that matter?

Not to me.

This was the next step in our relationship—at least, that’s how I justified it. And I wasn’t about to let doubt or second thoughts ruin it. Kelsey had rejected him, left him adrift, and here I was, ready to catch him.

I wasn’t going to waste this God-given opportunity. If fate had handed me this moment on a silver platter, who was I to refuse?

I was definitely going to give him the night of his life—

. . . even though I had absolutely no idea how to do that.

Minor detail.

This was my first time, but hey, I’d cross that bridge when I got there. I mean, how hard could it be? I’d done my research. Years of very educational late-night viewing had to count for something, right?

For once, all those hours spent watching questionable content weren’t a waste of time. Who knew porn literacy would be my secret weapon?

Now, if only I could remember anything besides the unrealistic acrobatics and the suspiciously bad dialogue . . .

I jolted back to reality when I felt Damien’s feverish hands, roaming with urgency, pulling me closer as if I was the only thing tethering him to reality. His lips crashed against mine, the taste of whiskey lingering between us, intoxicating in its own right.

Then—

Rip.

“Ah!” I gasped, half in shock, half in something else entirely, as the unmistakable sound of fabric tearing filled the air. My dress—was now a casualty of passion, hanging in tattered ruins as Damien’s lips claimed my breast.

I should have been mad. I really should have.

But then his mouth found my collarbone, trailing lower, and—yeah. I could buy another dress.

“This was expensive, you know,” I muttered breathlessly.

“I’ll buy you a new one,” he mumbled against my skin, completely unbothered.

I huffed. “Damn right, you will.”

But even as I pretended to be put out, I couldn’t stop the giddy, breathless laugh that bubbled up in my throat. Because for the first time, Damien wasn’t looking at Kelsey. He wasn’t chasing after something out of reach.

He was here.

With me.

And I was going to make damn sure he never forgot it.

A low, helpless moan slipped from my lips as Damien’s teeth grazed my nipple, sending a shiver straight to my core. His tongue followed, swirling over the sensitive peak, teasing, torturing. My fingers twisted into his hair, gripping tight, desperate for something to ground me as his hands wandered lower.

I barely had time to catch my breath before his fingers trailed down my stomach, slipping beneath the waistband of my panties with unhurried confidence. A gasp tore from me when he found exactly where I was aching most, aligning his touch with my slick heat.

“Oh—God,” I choked out, my back arching as his fingers parted me, one sinking in effortlessly. My nails dug into his back, but if it hurt, he didn’t show it.

Instead, he leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of my ear as his hot breath sent tingles down my spine.

“This is your chance to get away, Estelle,” he murmured, his voice a low, wicked drawl.

Liar.

Because even as he said it, his fingers curled inside me, stroking deep, pulling another strangled moan from my lips. My entire body trembled, pleasure building fast—too fast.

“Your last chance, sweetheart.” His tone was thick with amusement, like he already knew exactly what my answer would be.

I was trembling, on edge, my nerves frayed and burning. I needed this. Needed him. And he was not helping by curling his fingers inside me, drawing me dangerously close to the edge—only to pull back at the last second, leaving me panting, frustrated, and seconds from committing actual murder.

I snapped.

“Shut up and fuck me!”