𝙁𝙊𝙍𝘽𝙄𝘿𝘿𝙀𝙉 [𝟭𝟴+]

Fifteen

The air between Damon and me feels thick, charged, like the second before lightning strikes. He's still standing there, just inches away, but there's a distance between us that feels miles long. His eyes, though, betray him—dark, intense, hungry.

I see the shift in his posture. That small, nearly imperceptible twitch in his jaw. His breathing has quickened. I've pushed him to the edge, and I can feel it in every fiber of my being. This isn't just a game anymore. It's a battle of wills. And for the first time in a long while, Damon is losing."I think we need to have a conversation," Damon says, his voice quieter now, though still steady. But there's an undercurrent in his tone that's anything but professional. The restraint in his eyes is almost palpable.

I take a slow step forward, the faint click of my heels on the tiled floor punctuating the silence. "A conversation? I thought we already had one," I reply, my voice low and playful. "Unless you mean a... different kind of conversation."

I watch his eyes flicker—brief, but it's enough to make the heat in my chest flare. His gaze drifts to my lips for a split second before returning to my eyes, and I know that he's battling with himself, trying to hold onto that last shred of control.

His hands flex at his sides. "You're pushing your luck, Aurelia."I smirk. "Maybe. But isn't that the fun part?"

I step even closer now, just enough to feel the heat radiating off his body, just enough for him to feel the faint brush of my fingertips as I let them graze his arm. The touch is subtle, but the effect is immediate. I see his eyes narrow, his muscles tense beneath the fabric of his shirt. It's like he's trying to decide whether he wants to pull away or pull me closer.

I don't give him the chance to decide. I reach up, placing my hand lightly on his chest. The firm press of his body beneath my palm sends a thrill straight through me.

"I've seen you look at me like that, Damon," I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper, "and I've watched you fight it. But there's only so much you can resist before you snap."

His breathing deepens, and for a moment, I think he might say something—maybe even stop me. But instead, his lips curl into a small, dangerous smile. "And if I snap?"

I lean in closer, my lips brushing his ear as I answer softly, "Then we see what happens when you let go."

It's the final push. The moment when the last bit of restraint he's been holding onto gives way. His hands move to my waist with an urgency that surprises me, pulling me against him. His lips crash down on mine in a kiss that's fierce and desperate, as if he's been starving for this and didn't realize just how badly until now.

I kiss him back with the same intensity, my hands sliding to the back of his neck, threading through his hair. His grip on me tightens as if he's afraid I might slip away, but I don't want to go anywhere. Not now.

The kiss is everything I've been craving. It's messy, urgent, raw—each movement a silent demand, a mutual understanding that neither of us can walk away from this.