Princess

Chapter 41: A Seat At The Table

Ariadne

As I took a few minutes to compose myself and practice my smile in the mirror for the sheer amount of people who were going to be present downstairs, a wave of uncertainty washed over me and I pushed it all the way down to the depths of Hell.

Ironic.

Faint, elegant, music faded through the halls and I forced myself out of the room and onto the marble staircase that spills into the foyer the size of my entire apartment. There had to be at least a hundred people in the room, all donning elegant gowns and dark tuxes. Laughter and soft chatter filled the air, but my eyes scanned the room for the only face I currently gave a flying fuck about.

Halfway down the stairs, my breath hitched. Damon stood tall in a tuxedo probably tailored by the Gods at the end of the staircase, staring directly at me. His scruff was neatly groomed and his hair fell straighter than usual, trimmed into an expensive haircut. Although he retained his hunky look, he was an image of elegance and sheer perfection. I admired the way one hand rests comfortably in his pocket and the other curled around a glass of whiskey. His expression was starstruck and his eyes were the same warm and kind look I had grown to love helplessly. Chris Evans could stand next to him in a tuxedo, and I would still keep my eyes on Damon.

"Fuck," he finally whispered when I was just a couple inches away. So poetic. "How do you take my breath away every single time I see you?" Redeemed.

Setting a hand on his chest, I leaned in and kissed his cheek, inhaling the deep scent of Johnnie Walker Blue Label mixed with cologne on his body.

"You should reel it in. Robyn called you a softie earlier," I winked.

"I assure you, I am anything but soft right now," he whispered against my lips.

As I laughed at his crude joke, he placed an arm around my waist and planted a gentle kiss behind my ear, sending butterflies straight down my stomach.

"You know, if you keep looking like this, my new bed isn't going to last very long," he growled into my neck. Oh. A couple days ago, Damon's headboard broke after a lot of spectacular sex. To be completely honest, I was shocked it lasted as long as it did.

I grinned. "Don't worry, we'll break it in tonight."

He pulled back, smiling mischievously. "You look beautiful, princess."

"Thank you, my love."

His eyes widened with momentary delight and his jaw stiffened while I mentally smacked my forehead. My humiliation only lasted a second because he pressed his lips on mine in a mind-melting kiss, so openly and publicly in front of everyone he knew. Aws and gasps reverberated through the room, but he paid no attention. His hand never left the small of my back before he pulled away with an enormous smile, bigger than our first date at Mario's.

"I've been wanting to do that since the last time I saw you," he growled into my mouth.

"You mean last night?" I joked, knowing full well his lips were on me all night, not necessarily restricted to my mouth.

"What can I say? You're irresistible. I crave you like an addict."

"Concerning," I murmured, still trying to gather my wits.

"You belong right next to me, princess."

Before I had a chance to say anything stupid to the tune of, I am hopelessly and ridiculously in love with you, he slipped his hand into mine and introduced me to people who walked up to him, rubbing slow circles in my palm to calm me down. My heart beat so hard I was almost confident it was about to rip through my sternum and leak arterial red blood over my white gown. I hated attention and I hated crowds. Damon knew it. This was him showing support. This was him having my back.