Lila POV
Our parents returned Sunday night acting like the perfect power couple—smiling, touching, laughing too loudly. Mom kissed my cheek like she hadn’t helped cover up a man’s murder. Richard clapped Damon on the back like he hadn’t blackmailed and destroyed lives.
The tension in the house was suffocating.
Damon and I barely looked at each other during dinner. But under the table, his foot slid up my calf, promising everything we couldn’t say out loud. My p***y throbbed the entire meal, still sore and full of him from the dean’s office.
I excused myself to the kitchen to “help with dessert.”
Damon followed thirty seconds later.
The pantry door barely clicked shut before he was on me—mouth devouring mine, hands shoving my sundress up around my waist. No panties. I’d stopped wearin
