Chapter 58

Lyra

As soon as I stepped into the penthouse and my eyes landed on Damon, everything stopped.

Like literally everything.

My lungs forgot how to work, my heart fucking imploded, and every single thought in my brain melted into one single, overwhelming, unbearable need…

I just wanted him to fuck me. Fuck me senseless. Fuck me stupid. Fuck me until my voice cracked and my body forgot how to work. Fuck the living hell out of me.

Oh my fucking God, I’d missed him.

I’d missed the way he stood like he owned the world. The way his slacks hung off his hips like they were tailored by sin itself. The way his chest rose and fell slow, controlled, like his whole body was made of violence and patience wrapped in ink and rage.

He had a glass in one hand, a half-burnt cigar resting in the ashtray beside him, and that look on his face… that cold, cocky, lethal fucking smirk that said he knew exactly what I looked like crying, moaning, gagging on his c