Damian's Pov
I left the new apartment with a physical hum of satisfaction that had nothing to do with the day's business dealings. Emma's kiss still clung to my mouth, a warm imprint I could feel even as the elevator descended. It was ridiculous—I didn't get flustered. I didn't get distracted. Yet the memory of her fingers curled against my shirt, the quiet confidence in her eyes, the trembling breath she let out right before her lips touched mine—
It had all short-circuited something primitive and territorial inside me.
Her kiss was an electrical charge, an undeniable statement that the protective instincts I felt were not misplaced. She was mine, in the deepest sense of the word, and now the world knew it—or at least, the important part of the world (me) did.
