The morning after, I woke up tangled in Damon’s sheets, his arm heavy around my waist, his breath warm against the back of my neck. My body ached in the best way — thighs sore, pussy still tender and slick from how many times he’d taken me during the night. I could feel the evidence of him between my legs, sticky and warm, a constant reminder that I’d crossed a line I could never uncross.

I turned in his arms and found him already awake, watching me with those intense hazel eyes. No regret. Just heat. Possession. Something deeper that made my stomach flutter.

“Morning,” he murmured, voice rough with...