7
Elle
The door clicked shut behind me, and the silence in Damon’s penthouse felt thicker than usual. The city lights outside blinked like stars drowning in fog, muted through the tall windows. I stood in the entryway, heart ticking in my throat. I didn’t need to be told to wait. I knew better now.
He appeared a few moments later. Shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows, barefoot and looking calm.
“Come in,” he said.
I stepped forward, stripping off my jacket and watching him for clues. He said nothing until I stopped near the edge of the living room, close to the long leather couch we’d never touched.
“Take off your shoes,” he said.
I obeyed. The floor cool against my feet.
He stepped closer. “Kneel.”
My knees met the floor without hesitation. I felt it in my thighs, in the ache I car
