Morning light filtered through the tall windows of Damien’s penthouse, casting long shadows across the sleek, modern furniture. Bella stirred beneath the silken sheets, her body still aching and humming from the intensity of the night before. Every nerve seemed to remember Damien’s touch, every curve still held the imprint of his hands, his lips, his whispered words.
She shifted slightly, careful not to wake him, yet a small part of her longed to feel him near again. But when her eyes caught his silhouette, lying back against the headboard, his chest rising and falling in slow, deliberate breaths, she froze. Damien looked impossibly beautiful in the morning light, a dangerous combination of power and raw desire, and her heart thudded painfully against her ribs.
Bella swallowed, suddenly
