CHAPTER 57
Lisa's POV
The kiss is not harsh and his lips travel over mine. Sweet, gentle, leisurely, and passionate describe it. It is just what I had imagined for my first experience.
Something as delicate as a hummingbird's feathers, sweet like Adrianna Vineyard, slow like the present music, and passionate like the relationship Damien and I have.
The kiss first took me off surprise, but I decided to enjoy it while it lasted rather than wasting any more time worrying about it.
I hold his waist tighter, pulling him firmly against my front as his chest presses firmly on my bosom, disregarding all caution and reason.
He inserts his tongue further into my mouth in an effort to get access to more of the inside of my mouth, and I widen my mouth to allow him complete access so he can taste every inch of it.
He lets out a sigh, and I follow suit by letting out the moan I had been holding in. My skin feels very alive when he touches it, and his kisses do wonders for every part of my body.
I experience it in the same way that romance novels and movies do.
I do, however, have a distinct set of butterflies in my tummy. My whole gut is dancing merrily right now. I might easily fall over with simply a push since my legs are so weak. My pleasure at sharing my first kiss with Damien, who is so handsome, fills my brain.
Specifically, my spouse.
Then something clicks.
On paper, Damien is my spouse. I believe that he also understands what he is doing since his tongue stops the miracles they were working on my body.
He's still firmly shutting his eyelids when I open my eyes.
How did we behave?
He pulls away, leaving his hot, irresistible lips on me, as a cool air blows past them to signal this.
He also removes his hands from my body and walks over to the couch. I regretfully bite my bottom lips since I can still taste his tongue on mine.
Everything has simply been damaged by us. Without having to think back on these two minutes of emotion, how do we look at each other now?
I like Damien a lot, but I don't want to assume that it's more because of how similar we are. I attempt to understand the significance of the kiss as I stand perplexed in the center of the room.
Does a man's kiss taste different if you both like him? How do you tell the difference between a guy who likes you and one who doesn't?
As soon as he stands up, Damien runs by me and into the bedroom. The music has stopped playing, and I'm stuck to the ground. I'm unable to follow him. I can't speak with him. I am unable to question him.
I'm startled as the bedroom door slams shut. I jump back in shock to discover that he has already left and that he does not want us to discuss what just transpired between us.
This is incorrect.
Yes. a blunder.
I ought not to have let him. When he kissed me, I ought to have pulled him away.
Damien probably doesn't like me. A guy who likes a lady would never walk away silently as she stands in the midst of a room.
My strong conviction in love and my love of romantic fiction have opened my eyes to many things that experience would have taught me, even if I don't actually have any experience with love or relationships.
No guy would abandon the lady he is in love with.
How do I put this? I mentally chastise myself and go to the couch where she had just gotten up. I'm sitting peacefully, yet I have no feelings. I'm not sure how I am feeling at the moment.
Regrets? Yes.
There is no love in what Damien and I just experienced. Why should I bring up love when I don't even love him?
In addition, Damien will never be able to love another woman again. He is in love with Helena. There was no room for another lady to enter since she had already taken control of it before she passed away. Even after his death, she had claimed him.
When I think of Helena, a flood of remorse washes over my whole body.
This is not what I should be doing. I don't know much about Helena. She must be looking on at us right now with a dissatisfied expression, I know.
Even in death, Damien is still devoted to her, therefore things need to stay that way. I shouldn't be held accountable for a pledge with the dead being tainted.
No. I shake my head sporadically as the feelings return to my body from whence they had fled.
I understand.
I understand.
For more than a month, I have been convincing him that I am his true wife. For the following 11 months, it shouldn't be difficult to act as if this kiss signifies nothing or never happened.
Although eleven months may seem like a long time, I can manage it. I am capable of everything I set my mind to.
Am I reading too many romance novels because I'm starting to worry that my own narrative may turn out to be cliched?
No!
There is a Damien. He is not a made-up figure like those guys. He lacks the capacity to love. He cannot trip and fall twice in one lifetime.
I am also genuine. I deserve to find a partner who will value me for who I am. This is not how a first-time love relationship should be. It should be with a different person. I wish to go to Italy for this reason. I wish to see Tuscany and Verona.
I desire a passionate lover, which Italian guys are known for. A one-stand won't be a terrible idea even if I don't discover love. At least I won't go out virginal.
I exhaled a sigh of relief before turning to look at the food I had set out on the table. I'm sure it's already turning chilly since the steam has diminished.
To grab it, I leap to my feet. I set the tray on the table in front of me and take a plate.
Meatloaf is served with pasta. As I immediately bite into it, my stomach starts to grumble at the sight. As I eat, I restrain myself from spinning my brain around all that has occurred in the short minutes since I first woke up. I vented my rage and irritation on the meal.
I may not be claiming to be Jayden's wife and I wouldn't be in this precarious position if only I had fallen in love with a wealthy guy. But sadly, my attractive appearance and body type were only attracting unreliable partners who want simply a one-night encounter or to have me as one of their mistresses.
I quickly finish the meal and guzzle the glass of fruit juice that is on the tray before setting the dishes down and belching in pleasure.
I make the decision to try and get Damien to come out and eat when I realize that he has shut himself in the bedroom and not eaten.
The bedroom door opens as soon as I get up to go fetch him, and he enters. nonetheless, as another guy.
He doesn't resemble the Jayden I've gotten to know over the last week. He doesn't seem to be the broken Damien I've thought of him to be when Gabriel first told me about his and Helena's stories.
He doesn't resemble the Damien who gave me a passionate kiss and then left me standing in the center of the room. He doesn't resemble the guy who prepared this delicious lunch for me, nor does he resemble the dancing partner I had earlier who was laughing uncontrollably.
He resembles someone I used to know completely. I remember Damien from a year ago as being unpleasant, aggressive, and haughty.
the one who oversaw me. the one who always yells at me for being awkward and foolish.
He approaches me without giving me a second look and takes the food off the tray.
I can see it all when he turns to look in my direction. all of the feelings. And my presumptions are accurate.
He says out loud, "Get ready, we're going home now," and walks away, leaving me standing where I was before.
I have to think about it for a bit before I can ask, so quietly. "Has the rain stopped?"
He doesn't turn around to face me. Instead of responding, he keeps walking until he is no longer in view.
I get up from the floor and go toward the door to see whether the rain has stopped and if it is actually safe to return home.
When I arrive, I notice the silence.
In fact, the rain has ceased. And now we're heading home.
not as a pair. not as close pals. not as close friends.
but as rivals.
As a result of allowing the kiss to occur, I am now his enemy.
