The air is pulsing with heat, with want. I can feel it between us—this invisible force, this electric pull that has my thighs trembling and my stomach tightening in anticipation.
And he looks—fück, he looks hungry.
Like a man who has been starved for days, weeks, months, and now he’s seeing his first real meal.
I keep my fingers where they are, slipping between my folds, teasing myself, pushing inside just as he reaches the bed. The moment his knees hit the mattress, I moan, loud and unabashed, because I want him to hear it. I want him to feel it.
Damon drags himself closer, kneeling in front of me, his body radiating heat like an open flame. He doesn’t touch me. He just watches—eyes moving from my face to my hand to the motion between my legs.
A groan rumbles from his chest, deep and
