She pressed herself to him. With each stolen breath, her cheeks bloomed with color again. It was a miracle they could both feel in the most primal way.
"Damien…" she moaned, his name slipping from her lips.
That sound nearly undid him.
He felt giddy. His fangs throbbed in his gums, and it took every ounce of royal decorum he possessed not to slam his hand against the wall!
"I'm doing the right thing," he told himself silently, even as instinct and love tangled together in a chaotic, beautiful mess. "This is the right decision."
He pulled back just a fraction, needing to see her eyes. Needing to ground himself in the only truth that mattered.
"Do you trust me?" he asked.
"With my life," she whispered.
Damien's heart cracked open. Gods, she could kill him with words like that. It was unfair, really, how she wielded trust like a blade and made him want to be pierced by it.
