“I can’t explain it. It’s as if you settled into a space in my heart I didn’t know was vacant. I think about you every spare moment.” He chuckled. “Even every moment I don’t have to spare. I worry about you. Wonder what you’re doing. Hearing you felt scared earlier—I fucking hate it.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry, just agree with me.”
“Agree with you?”
“Let me make sure you’re safe. If we find out I’m overreacting, I’ll admit it.”
“And in the meantime, you will have gotten your way.”
A smile tugged on his lips. “Well, there is that.”
He bent low and brushed his mouth on mine. Once, twice, and again. Pressed a little harder each time. Held our lips together longer. Until I couldn’t take it and flung my arms around his neck, letting him kiss me the way he had the other night. Hard. Deep. Passionate and demanding. I had never been kissed the way Damien kissed me. Each press of his mouth, every sweep of his tongue, I felt claimed. Possessed. Desired. Every taste of him left me wanting another. More. I wanted all of him.
With a groan, he gathered me up, turning and lifting me to the back of the sofa again. Moments passed as our mouths moved, tongues stroked, and whispered words passed between us.
Until the window behind me shattered, the glass screeching with the intensity of the blow it took. The blinds made a deep metallic sound as if it were being torn apart. One moment, I was in Damien’s arms. The next, we were on the floor, his body covering mine defensively.
My frightened gaze met his furious one. He pulled me to my feet, and we looked at the rock lying on my rug, slivers of glass all around it.
“I don’t think we can put this down to coincidence,” he scowled. “You’re coming home with me. Tonight.”
I didn’t argue.