The bedroom was silent except for the ragged pull of Eva’s breath. Her body was a wreck—skin flushed, thighs trembling, wrists raw from the belt Damon had tied. But the night wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.
Damon stood at the foot of the bed, shirtless now, his muscles rigid, eyes locked on her like a predator deciding how much further to break its prey.
“Get up.”
His voice was quiet. Deadly. She obeyed.
Her legs barely supported her as she rose to her feet, but Damon was already behind her, his hand gripping the back of her neck, steering her across the apartment like she was weightless.
He stopped in front of the full-length mirror in her hallway.
“Look.”
She tried to avert her gaze, but his hand tightened on her jaw, forcing her reflection to meet her.
“See that?” Damon’s lips
