The way her provocations struck him was dangerous. Without hesitation, Damon pressed Arabella's body against the nearest wall, his touch unapologetically possessive.
Her dress fabric was already slightly raised, his hands firm on her thighs, leaving marks that would linger not just physically.
He kissed her, without invitation or permission. Arabella tangled her fingers in Damon's soft hair, pulling him closer, the kiss teetering on the edge of ecstasy.
The secret lay in their ability to make each touch feel eternal.
Damon led them beyond the living room, carrying his prize with him. Not the trophy of the night, but of his entire life. Conversely, Arabella felt a sense of satisfaction in being in Banks's arms again, in his apartment.
He was a prize to her too.
The dim light of the
