It was because of her overwhelming affection!
And because of all the signals she was sending!
All of it made Damian Fairchild uneasy.
Five years ago, right before she broke up with him, she had been the same way in bed—doing everything she could to please and soothe him.
She was a liar!
Her specialty was inflicting slow, silent wounds.
"How could you say that?" Seraphina Quinn sensed Damian Fairchild's paranoia. She replied the instant he finished speaking, "Why would you think that?"
The rims of Damian Fairchild's eyes, clouded with lust, were a terrifying shade of red.
He was still pressed against her, but he didn't move anymore.
But from the sheer effort of holding back, the veins at his temples bulged grotesquely.
His voice was raspy. "Because… you've been unnervingly pliant today."
Seraphina Quinn kissed the beads of sweat on the bridge of his nose. "Don't you like it? I thought you would, so I wanted to make you happy."
