Serena
The air between us thickened. It was charged, restless, and dangerous.
Damien's eyes darkened, watching me like I was something forbidden he couldn't stop himself from wanting.
"You have no idea what you do to me," he said, his voice low and tough, each word vibrating against the tension that hung between us.
"Then show me," I whispered, my voice trembling, not with fear, but with a kind of desperate hunger I didn't know I still had in me.
His jaw clenched, the muscle in it ticking as if he were fighting every instinct in his body.
"You're playing with fire Serena."
"Maybe I like the burn."
That did it. His restraint faltered. He leaned in until his forehead brushed mine, his breath warm against my lips. Every exhale carried the scent of his skin—clean, warm and intoxicating. His hand slid to the back of my neck, holding me there, like he was daring me to move, to deny what was happening between us.
