Davian
I stood by the door of the sleek, glass-walled office, my arms crossed tightly over my chest. I was still on edge from the night before, my body a coiled spring of frustration that bordered on physical pain. After Lily had retreated to her room, I’d been left with a burning arousal the bond refused to let fade. I’d spent nearly an hour in a freezing shower, jerking off with a punishing, frantic rhythm just to find a shred of relief, growling her name into the tile walls.
It was a special kind of hell—to finally find the woman I’d hunted for years, to feel her arch into me, and then to be stopped by the ghost of a man who didn't deserve to breathe her air.
I watched her now, and she seemed like a different creature altogether, sitting across from a middle-aged attorney who looked
