Chapter 57

Damon

I lit the cigar slowly, letting the flame linger just long enough to burn the edge, then pulled in a deep drag as I leaned back against the counter.

The penthouse was dark, save for the gold halo of city lights pouring in from the windows, painting long shadows across the marble floor.

I hadn’t even bothered to turn on the lights. Didn’t need to. I was too wound up. Too hard. Too goddamn restless to care about anything except the fact that she hadn’t arrived yet.

I’d been pacing since I sent her the location.

Every clock tick pissed me off. Every breath I took that didn’t smell like her skin made my fists clench tighter. My cock was already hard, straining against the front of my slacks, pulsing with a hunger that had been building for days.

I hadn’t fucked anyone. Hadn’t touched myself. Not once. Not since the last time I fucked her, crying into her own arm while I shoved her deeper and deeper into the only goddamn role she was ever