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Chapter 22 Eden
“Today is important,” Damien growls, the deep timbre of his voice going straight to my core.
“I know.”
You’d think it would be me giving the pep talk on account it’s his big day, but nope. The second we walked through the back doors of townhall, he grabbed my hand and ushered me into an abandoned conference room.
His expression sets. “Put your game face on.”
I look him in the eye. “It’s on.”
“If anyone starts with you, make them eat shit.”
I start to smile but hold it in. “I will.”
With that, I head for the door.
I’m almost there when he latches onto my waist, steering me until my spine meets the wall.
My pulse accelerates as he takes in my red heels and black dress. It hugs my curves and shows a tad bit too much cleavage, but I chose it because Geoffrey’s jaw nearly hit the floor when I put it on.
It made me feel powerful and sexy. Intimidating.
The heat emanating from Damien as he lingers on my red lips tells me I chose right.
But I swear to God I’ll put up a fight if he insists I change or cover up.
He tilts my chin. “Stu
Butterflies swarm in my belly when he closes the distance between us. I’m almost positive he only meant to give me a chaste kiss, but what happens when his lips meet mine is nothing short of electric. And I know he feels it too because he makes a noise deep in his throat as he coaxes me to open my mouth wider, teasing me the way a snake would its prey. Slowly and methodically.
The moment our tongues touch, the kiss turns fervent and reckless. I can feel his erection straining in his pants, desperate to be free as he explores every inch of my mouth and I do the same to him, unable to get enough.
I don’t know what this pull is between us and I don’t care. All I know is the second Cain broke my heart for the very last time—Damien came riding in on his dark horse, offering to teach me how to build a stronger one.
Still doesn’t mean I trust him fully. Not until I find out why he killed Cain’s father and brother.
A sizzle of heat zips down my spine when his hand finds my breast and he gives it a firm squeeze. I pant as he sucks the tip of my tongue and walks his fingers down the buttons of my dress…never undoing a single one.
Jesus. His kisses should be deemed a sin.
“Damien—”
The ground beneath me gives way as he lifts the hem and cups me.
Our eyes lock and my breath hitches when he traces the lace pattern of my panties with his thumb, deliberately drawing out my anticipation.
“My mouth will be here later.” A tremor goes through me when he moves them aside and slowly circles my clit. “Remember that if you need something to ease your jitters.”
His promise does nothing to ease my anxiety—in fact, it only heightens it—but I appreciate the sentiment.
“I will,” I tell him coolly.
I’m not dumb enough to think this wasn’t a last-minute test to see how I respond under pressure.
Even so, I damn near whimper at the loss when he removes his hand.
Smirking, he licks his thumb. “Let’s go.”