The room still smelled like s*x. The sheets were tangled, damp with sweat and something far filthier. But Damon wasn’t giving her time to recover. He sat on the edge of the bed, fully clothed again, while Eva knelt in front of him — naked, trembling, skin marked with the red fingerprints of his control.
He tapped his thigh with two fingers.
“Over my lap.”
Eva’s heart pounded. The dominance in his tone wasn’t loud, it didn’t need to be. It was threaded into every movement, every breath, as if the entire space bent to his will.
She hesitated.
Damon’s hand shot out, gripping her jaw.
“Don’t make me repeat myself.”
Her pride didn’t stand a chance.
Eva crawled forward, draping herself across his lap, her ass exposed, her breasts brushing against his thigh. She could feel the hardness in
