*Isabella's POV*
Holy f**k. I was a boneless, used-up mess sprawled across the couch, my body still humming with the aftershocks of Jacob's thorough f*****g. I was trying to catch my breath, trying to remember how to form a coherent thought, when a shadow fell over me.
I didn't have to open my eyes to know who it was. The air itself changed, growing thick and heavy with a dark, electric charge. I pried my eyelids open, and there he was. Damien. Standing at the end of the couch, looking down at me with a predatory glint in his eyes that promised a whole different kind of ruin than Jacob's playful destruction. He'd taken off his suit jacket, his shirt sleeves were rolled up, revealing those strong forearms, and he looked like a goddamn king surveying his most prized possession.
"Isabella
