The house was quiet again, but Sierra’s pulse had not slowed since the sound of her mother’s car in the driveway. Hours had passed since Damien had tied her wrists with silk, since his mouth had branded her skin, since she had whispered the words Don’t stop.
And yet, even with Vanessa back and bustling around the kitchen as though nothing had changed, Sierra’s body remembered everything.
She could still feel the faint pressure of the silk around her wrists. The taste of his kiss lingered like a sin she couldn’t wash away. Her thighs pressed together beneath the dinner table, desperate and ashamed.
Every time Damien spoke, her chest tightened. Every time his eyes slid across the table and met hers for the briefest second, heat surged through her body so strongly she feared her mother wou
