Good Girl, Eva Lopez
Damian strode back into his office, the door clicking shut behind him. Without missing a beat, he pulled out his phone and typed a short message:
đCome to my office. Now.
He didn't wait for a reply.
Minutes later, there was a hesitant knock on the door. "Come in," he called, his voice calm but carrying that commanding weight that made it impossible to ignore.
Eva stepped inside, still holding her tablet from the presentation. Her heart pounded as she met his gaze for a fraction of a second before looking away.
"Sit," he said, already behind his desk, his attention seemingly fixed on the documents in front of him.
She obeyed, sitting at the edge of the chair, her knees pressed together, her fingers fidgeting in her lap. The room was silent except for the soft scratch of his pen and the faint hum of the air conditioner.
Five minutes passed. Damian didn't speak, didn't look up. He just kept writing, flipping pages, signing forms. Eva could feel her nerves unraveling, the quiet stretching into something almost unbearable.
Finally, without lifting his eyes from the papers, he asked in a deep, even tone, "What happened to your leg?"
Eva blinked, startled. "My leg?" She asked, almost rolling her eyes. Like he didn't know what he did to her.
He looked up then, and his gaze was sharp enough to pin her to the chair. "Yes. You were limping during your presentation. Explain."
Her lips parted, but the words tangled on her tongue. "I... um... it's nothing, really. Just a little... soreness."
One brow arched, and the corner of his mouth tugged up in a way that made her pulse quicken. "Soreness?" he repeated, as if tasting the word. "From what?"
Eva's cheeks heated. "I... I just overexerted myself."
Damian leaned back in his chair, studying her in silence for a long moment. Then, slowly, that knowing smirk spread across his face. "Overexerted," he murmured, his voice low, almost dangerous. "Interesting choice of words, Eva."
Her breath caught. She could see it in his eyes, he knew exactly what had caused it.
He set his pen down, folding his hands on the desk. "If I'm the reason you can barely walk, you should say so. I take full responsibility."
Her breath caught. "You... were a little rough," she admitted, barely above a whisper.
Damian's eyes darkened, and for a moment, it seemed like the air between them sparked. "A little?" He tilted her chin up so she had no choice but to meet his gaze. "I'll take that as a compliment."
Eva's stomach flipped.
"Because," he cut in, leaning forward, his tone dark and teasing, "if that's the case... I can't promise I'll take it easy next time."
Her pulse thundered in her ears, and she found herself gripping the edge of the chair just to keep steady.
"You can hang around here in my office and let your colleagues handle the work for today"
"No sir, I'll rather work sir, It's not that bad and I can definitely manage"
"Okay if you say so. Now," Damian said, as though nothing had happened, turning back to his work. "You may go. But Eva..." He didn't look up this time, but his voice was thick with promise. "...rest well tonight. You'll need it." And Eva gasped at his words, what does that even mean? He-goat! She swore in her mind.
Eva walked out of Damian's office on shaky legs, his last words looping in her mind like a dangerous melody. Rest well tonight. You'll need it.
Her hands were clammy, her heart doing strange somersaults. She tried to focus on work, burying herself in numbers and deadlines, but no matter how many emails she sent or calls she made, she kept glancing at the clock, wondering what exactly he meant.
By late afternoon, she was almost convincing herself that maybe Damian had been bluffing. Just teasing her. Just to keep her off balance.
But when her phone lit up at 5:47 PM with his name, her breath caught.
Damian đMy driver will take you home.
Eva:đ I can go on my own, sir.
Damian: đYou misunderstand. I'm not asking. And if you repeat what you did the last time, I'll spank you Eva Lopez!"
Heat suddenly rose to her cheek as she quickly bite her bottom lips to conceal her feelings and beetroot cheeks, as her chest tightened.
"What sort of bullying is this?" Eva asked herself.
She closed her laptop, packed her things, and headed out, where his sleek black car was already waiting.
The ride was quiet, too quiet. The driver didn't even glance at her. By the time they pulled up to their apartment, Eva's palms were damp again. She was halfway to her door when she heard footsteps behind her.
She turned. Damian was there.
"Sir," she began, but the word was barely out before his hand was at her waist, pushing her gently but firmly back against the wall. His scent, clean, expensive, intoxicating, wrapped around her.
"No sir, when we're home. At work I am your boss so it's fine. But at home I am your husband, which means it's just Damien"
"Okay sir, erh, I mean, Damien..."
"You didn't rest," he murmured, his eyes narrowing.
Her lips parted. "I,"
"You're still tense." His fingers traced along her hip, his touch slow, deliberate. "I told you, you'd need your strength."
Her knees felt weak again, but for an entirely different reason than earlier that morning.
"Damian, we can't," she tried to protest, but he tilted her chin up with one finger, his gaze locking hers in place.
"I decide what we can or can't do," he said softly, but with that steel beneath every syllable.
The air between them seemed to thicken. His hand slid lower, and her breath hitched. "Tell me to stop, Eva."
She didn't.
A slow, dangerous smile curved his lips. "Good girl."
And then he kissed her, deep, claiming, as if the entire day had been nothing but a prelude to this moment.
Damian's kiss deepened, pulling Eva under like a rip current. She clutched his shirt, trying to anchor herself, but his mouth moved with such deliberate hunger that it left her dizzy.
Without breaking contact, he reached past her and pushed the door open. That was when Eva saw it, Gina and some maids peeking and giggling, and Eva felt like disappearing. She barely had time to gasp before he swept her inside, closing it behind them with a firm click that sounded far too final.
"Damian_"
"Sit," he ordered, nodding toward the couch. His tone wasn't loud, but it carried that quiet authority that made disobedience feel impossible.
She sat, her heart pounding. He stayed standing, removing his suit jacket and draping it over the armrest before loosening his tie with slow, purposeful movements, never taking his eyes off her.
"You limped this morning," he said, finally stepping closer. "I should feel guilty⊠but instead, I'm wondering how much further I can push you."
Her breath hitched. "I don't think,"
"Thinking is overrated." His voice was low, dangerous. He crouched in front of her, his hands sliding along her thighs until they rested just above her knees. "Feel instead."
The warmth of his palms bled through the fabric of her skirt, sending a shiver up her spine. Her pulse was hammering in her ears, and when he began inching his hands higher, she instinctively pressed her legs together.
She never pictured Damien as such a bully, she'd thought he would be calm, gentle, diplomatic maybe rigid and unfeeling, but she was wrong, he was far from it, instead he is a horse, shameless and a bully.
He smirked. "You're still shy."
"I'm not_" Eva said even though her deep blush betrayed her.
"Yes," he interrupted, his gaze darkening, "you are. And I like it. It makes it so much more satisfying when you give in."
Before she could form another protest, his hands parted her knees with slow but undeniable pressure, and he leaned in, close enough for her to feel his breath against her skin.
Her back pressed into the cushions as if trying to melt into them, but his presence was inescapable, his body a shadow over hers.
"You're trembling," he murmured, almost with amusement.
"Because you,"
"Because I what? Or you don't like that I touch you?" He asked with a arched brow, his tone teasing but edged with heat.
"No, not that" Eva stammered avoiding his eyes as her lips parted as if she was trying to breathe through the mouth.
"Am listening then" Damien said patiently torturing her with his sharp gaze and close proximity.
"It's, because, you overwhelm me," she whispered.
That drew a quiet, pleased hum from him. "Good."
Then his mouth was on hers again, firmer this time, claiming every breath she had left. His hands roamed up her sides, under the hem of her blouse, fingers brushing warm skin. Every touch sent sparks racing across her nerves.
When he finally broke the kiss, she was breathless, her lips tingling. He leaned close, his mouth near her ear.
"Last night was me holding back," he said, his voice like velvet over steel. "Tonight, I won't."
And the way he said it made her realize, she wasn't sure if she should be afraid... or counting the seconds.
But then, after everything he'd done to her, he'd still said he's been holding back? Then what happens if he doesn't holds back?
What does that even mean? And who ask for sex the moment he's back from work? Little did she know that, all Damien's been thinking about all day was having that moment again. If only she knew how much he's missed her, how much he was restless through out the day.
He wanted so bad to close early so he could do things to her again, so he could see her melt for him and hear her moan his name, he's been thinking of various things he could do to her.
She was becoming his obsession.
Then Damien stood up, grabbed his belongings and then looked around the room.
All painted in pink, different shades of pink and he gasped.
"Are you a kid? Why so much pink? I don't actually like this room, you are not a little princess. This room should probably be left for our daughter". And Eva gasped in disbelief, he's already talking about children?
"I think you should move into my bedroom" He finally said
"I don't think that's a good idea." She tried to protest but he calmly looked at her.
"Why?" He asked as he stared at her for a minute, but Eva looked away with out saying a word. Then Damien continues, "I don't particularly want to share a room with you, because I like my space and you have a terrible sleeping habits"
And Eva scoffed in disbelief. Did he just say I have terrible sleeping habits? How? When? She was almost protesting but she chose to swallow it back the moment she remembered the day she slept in Bob's room. She was shocked when she met her younger brother on the floor the next morning. He said he couldn't share a bed with her so he ran off to sleep on the ground instead. He also commented terribly on her sleeping habits.
"but as a married couple," Damien continues, "it is only right that we share a room, so I'll have Gina move your things".
No wait.
"But I equally don't, really like your room" She blurted, earning a look from Damian.
"Why?"
"It looks lifeless, the colors are terrible, it's just too dull"
"Then adjust it to your choice of preference"
With that, his long strides gently left the room. While Eva stood worried.