Lana’s POV
The taste of him still lingered on her lips.
No matter how much she tried to shake it off, the memory of last night burned through her like fire licking at dry wood. The way Damian’s hands had gripped her, strong and possessive, the way his lips had crashed against hers with raw hunger—like he was staking a claim.
Lana squeezed her eyes shut, inhaling deeply as she pressed her fingers to her lips. She could still feel the heat of his body against hers, the way he had pressed her against the cool glass, the firm stroke of his fingers exploring her waist, her thighs, the slow, torturous graze of his thumb—
She sat up abruptly, shaking her head. What the hell is wrong with me?
Her mind shouldn’t be fixated on a kiss, not when she had bigger things to worry about.
Like the tru
