I froze.
Because holy s**t.
He was right.
Damon would smell it. If he came near this corridor, if he caught even a whiff of my heat or arousal or distress, he’d come charging in like a f*****g wolf possessed. And it wouldn’t be a warning. It wouldn’t be a threat. It would be blood and broken bones and a whole-ass murder scene.
I shook my head against his palm, and his smirk widened.
“Good girl,” he purred, his fingers still tracing that line down my thigh, getting closer and closer to the edge of my panties, and I couldn’t believe this was happening. I couldn’t believe I was letting this happen. My mind was screaming, begging me to move, to run, to bite him or knee him or do something. But I wasn’t strong enough for him.
“You smell so f*****g good,” he whispered, bending down now, n
