Sydney, Australia. Six months later.

"Are you nervous about meeting him?" Damian's low murmur sent shivers down Chloe's spine.

He watched as she smoothed the scarlet silk of her sleeveless dress, the high-slit hem teasing just enough to make his thoughts race. The dress, a luxury piece he'd bought her from a high-end boutique in Double Bay, hugged her curves in all the right places, accentuating her body like a lover's caress.

After an evening at the Sydney Opera House watching Andrew Lloyd Webber's Sunset Boulevard, they now lingered in one of its most exclusive lounges. Damian handed her a glass of champagne, his gaze fixed on her every move.

"Nervous? A little," Chloe admitted with a soft, melodic laugh. She tilted her head up to him, her eyes reflecting the glimmering lights around them. Those eyes—so full of emotion—held him captive.

Damian stood beside her, strikingly handsome in a navy blue suit that fit his muscled frame with tailored precision. The crisp white shirt beneath, unbuttoned just enough, hinted at the hard planes of his chest. The fresh, intoxicating scent of his cologne—a blend of citrus and sandalwood—tempted her to want to taste him and lose herself in him.

"I've got this," Chloe said, her hand brushing his arm, her fingers tracing the strength beneath the fabric.

"We've got this," Damian corrected, his hand sliding to the small of her back. Her bare skin was cool beneath his fingers, but the heat between them was undeniable.

"I know. You're right," she answered, tasting her champagne while her eyes wandered to the lounge's high ceilings and minimalist décor.

"Everything okay, babe?" Damian asked, taking a sip from her glass after finishing his own, his eyes searching her face.

"Dami, the design of this place is stunning. It reminds me of the northern European architecture we saw last month," Chloe mused, remembering their recent trip to watch the Ukrainian ballet troupe perform Swan Lake at the Oslo Opera House.

"That's not surprising," Damian replied, a small smile curving his lips. "This place was designed by a Danish architect, Jørn Utzon. It's got that Scandinavian touch you love."

Chloe's life had transformed since becoming Damian's live-in lover. Outside her work life, they traveled the world during long weekends—Copenhagen, Paris, Stockholm, Salzburg—living a life of luxury she'd never dreamed of. She had seen the world from Damian's private jet, dined in castles, and even attended an opera in a royal box. But despite the allure of this glamorous life, she kept a low profile, shying away from social media and the spotlight.

It wasn't just a preference; it was a necessity. The media's relentless scrutiny had once nearly destroyed her. Years ago, after their painful breakup, she had seen Damian's face splashed across gossip sites, always with a different woman hanging off his arm. And so, she disconnected from social media, protecting herself from the digital world's poisoned arrows.

But things were different now. Though she avoided the media, she underwent public relations training at Damian's insistence. "The tabloid reporters are animals, Chloe. They'll hound you with provocative questions and outrageous statements," he had warned.

He was right. It had already happened that morning.

As they left the airport, photographers and tabloid journalists swarmed them, their questions sharp and invasive. "Miss Carter, how do you feel about being with a playboy billionaire like Damian Scott? Are you aware of the intimate video of him with one of Las Vegas's highest-paid strippers a few months ago?"

Chloe had ignored their barbs, her silence her shield. She knew the truth behind Damian's bad-boy image. The so-called incriminating video of a stripper in a sparkly thong on his lap was from Theo's bachelor party. Chloe knew seductive women surrounded Damian, and he could have any of them.

But the media were wrong.

She knew his heart—and his cock—belonged to her.

"There's only one pussy for me, babe," Damian had whispered at Lisa and Theo's summer wedding reception, his fingers slipping between Chloe's slick folds as they stole away to a hidden room. His voice had been rough, full of possession as he claimed her, moving inside her with a fierce, unyielding rhythm. "You belong to me," he growled, his body moving in perfect sync with hers until they both reached the peak of pleasure, their moans muffled by the walls.

Damian's touch brought her back to the present, his hand resting on her lower back as he admired her silhouette against the backdrop of Sydney Harbour Bridge, the city lights sparkling in the distance. The red lipstick stain on the rim of her champagne flute was a small, intimate mark—a reminder of her presence, her impact on him.

God, she was beautiful. No woman had ever captivated him like Chloe. She was his, completely and utterly. He had won her heart, and he would never let it go.

But the night didn't go as planned. They waited for Chloe's biological father, Jason Zhou, to arrive. They waited, and waited. Damian's phone finally beeped with a message—Jason wasn't coming. The man who fathered Chloe and promised to meet her had let her down.

Damian's jaw tightened as he read the message in his phone, anger simmering beneath the surface. He turned to Chloe, his voice firm but empathetic. "Sweetheart, not all men are like your father. He's the one who lost, not you. You deserve better."

Chloe blinked back tears, her voice trembling. "I'm so tired," she whispered, wiping a stray tear from her cheek.

Damian's heart twisted with pain for her. He pulled her into his arms, his voice a deep, reassuring rumble as he spoke against her hair. "Hey, I'm here, and I will never abandon you. Not ever again. Do you believe me?"

She nodded, but her eyes were clouded with the pain of her father's rejection cutting deep. "Jason didn't think I was worth his time."

"Forget him," Damian said, his voice firm. "Your adoptive parents, Glenn and Ida, love you. My family loves you."

Chloe let out a bitter laugh, wiping away another tear as her eyes met his. "Are most rich men like my dad assholes?"

Damian ran a hand through his neatly combed hair, ruffling it in that way she loved. "Yeah, there are plenty of assholes out there. Not just the wealthy but your average Joe, too. You find jerks everywhere. But there are also good men. Men like me. I'll never trade you for the world."

Chloe chuckled, a slight smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "You promise?"

"Babe, I already have. Nothing gets to me, remember? I grew up with this."

"I know. You've learned to become charismatic. Women fall for you. They want to be with you. And you sure can sweet-talk, delivering honey straight into the paws of a bear. But I see the real you behind the charm. You're a good man, solid—like a diamond."

"You're the woman I want, Chloe—the one I need. You're loyal and level-headed, and I love that about you. Not to mention, you're the lady of my dreams. When we're apart, I ache for you. When the bed is cold, it's your warmth I miss. When we make love, I give you all of me."

Damian reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box, his movements deliberate, almost reverent. "I meant to give this to you later, but now feels right."

He opened the box to reveal a gold ring with a massive diamond at its center, the stone catching the light in a dazzling display. Getting down on one knee, he held her left hand, his eyes locking onto hers.

"Chloe, will you marry me? Be my wife? Share children together? Share our burdens so the load never becomes too heavy for either of us?"

Chloe's breath caught in her throat, her mind spinning and her heart pounding. "A marriage is a contract. Aren't you tired of contracts?"

"Not with you," Damian said, his voice filled with determination and a love so deep, it made her knees weak.

Chloe hesitated, her heart fluttering widely, her breathing quickening. "Dami... I want this as much as you do. There's so much fear of the unknown, but I believe in you. I believe in us."

"Is that a yes?" Damian asked, raising an eyebrow.

Chloe smiled, her fingers trembling. "Yes. I'll marry you, Damian Scott."

Damian slipped the ring onto Chloe's finger, then stood, pulling her into a tight embrace. His lips met hers, the kiss so hot and demanding as his tongue captured hers in a dance of desire. His mouth moved against hers with a fiery hunger that unleashed in full force. His hands pressed her closer—he couldn't get enough of her or bear even the smallest distance between them.

Chloe melted into him, her hands threading through his hair, tugging him closer. The world around them faded, the fancy lounge, the sparkling Sydney skyline—all of it disappeared, leaving only the two in their private universe.

When they finally pulled apart, Damian rested his forehead against hers, a grin spreading across his face.

"We made it," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion, his heart pounding as if he had just crossed a finish line he'd been racing toward for years.

Chloe's heart swelled, the weight of the ring on her finger grounding her in the reality of their commitment to each other. "We did. And this is just the beginning," she beamed, her excitement mirroring his.

"Can you take me to our hotel room? I need you now." Chloe's lips trailed along his jawline as she breathed against his skin. Her urgent plea made her lover's blood run hot; his tenting erection stiffened and rubbed against her pelvis.

Damian's eyes darkened, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as his fingers pinched her buttocks. "The paddle or the cat o' nine tails?"

"Straddle me on your lap," Chloe's voice dropped to a sultry whisper. "I need a good spanking."

The End.

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A/N: Well, thanks for sticking around with this story!  If you enjoyed the story, feel free to share it with friends and other readers. 🙏❤️

Chloe's Seduction, the sequel to this story, is on my profile. I'm releasing a chapter or two a week.