The candles had burned lower, their flames flickering like they were breathing with the room. Isabella lay sprawled across the silk sheets, legs still trembling, inner thighs slick with their combined release.
Damien hovered above her, forearms braced on either side of her head, his golden eyes locked on hers. His c**k still half-hard, thick and glistening was pressed against her stomach, leaving a warm, sticky trail.
She reached up, fingers tracing the sharp line of his cheekbone, then down to the faint scar that ran along his jaw. “Does it hurt?” she whispered. “The curse.”
“Every second I’m not inside you,” he said, voice rough. “But touching you… it quiets the beast. For a little while.”
He rolled to the side, pulling her with him until she was draped across his chest. One massive
