A LESSON IN TEMPTATION

Lana’s world had shrunk down to one thing.

Damian.

The way his mouth teased over her breast, lazily, expertly, sending sharp currents of pleasure through her.

The slow, sinful flick of his tongue.

The way his lips sealed around her, sucking gently before tightening with intent.

Her head fell back against the pillow, her spine arching, every nerve in her body aching for more.

She couldn’t stop the gasp that left her lips, the soft sound twisting into a whimper as his teeth grazed her hardened peak through the sheer material.

Heat pooled low in her belly, dark and molten, spreading in slow, torturous waves.

Damian’s hand, large and possessive, slid up her thigh, his fingers pressing into her skin—holding her there, keeping her in place.

She felt his control, the sheer dominance of his touch, the restraint barely hanging by a thread.

“You’re so sensitive,” he murmured against her skin, his breath a hot caress against the damp silk.

Lana’s fingers dug into his shoulders, muscles taut beneath her touch, every inch of him coiled tension and raw hunger.

Yet he wasn’t rushing.

He was taking his time, drawing pleasure from every shiver, every unsteady breath, every moment her body betrayed her.

Damian shifted, his knee nudging between her legs, parting them just enough.

Her breath caught.

The brush of his skin against her inner thigh was almost too much, her pulse hammering in anticipation.

She should stop this.

She should pull away.

But her body—traitorous, desperate, aching—had already surrendered.

She needed this.

Needed him.

Damian pulled back, his eyes dark, predatory, fixed entirely on her.

Lana’s chest rose and fell rapidly, her nightgown slipping further down, revealing more, exposing everything.

He exhaled slowly, his jaw tightening as he took in the sight of her.

“You have no idea how badly I want to ruin you,” he murmured.

A violent shiver ran through her.

Oh.

A slow smirk tugged at his lips as if he had felt her reaction, as if he had heard the sharp hitch of her breath.

And then—

His hand slid higher.

Dangerously high.

Her lashes fluttered, her thighs clenching, but he didn’t stop.

Didn’t falter.

His fingers teased the hem of her nightgown, then brushed against the soaked silk beneath.

Lana gasped.

Damian’s smirk deepened.

“Already this wet for me?”

Her face burned, her thighs instinctively trying to press together, but his knee kept her open.

His fingers traced just the edge, teasing the fabric, not giving her nearly enough.

She whimpered, the sound quiet, desperate.

Damian let out a low, satisfied groan.

And then—he pushed the silk aside.

Lana’s entire world stopped.

Because his fingers—**warm, firm, demanding—**slid against her slick heat, spreading the wetness, coaxing another whimper from her lips.

He exhaled harshly.

“Fuck, Lana.”

She was drowning.

Drowning in sensation, in the unbearable heat, in the way his fingers teased right where she needed them most.

Then the first slow stroke.

A sharp gasp ripped from her, her back arching, her nails digging into his arms.

He groaned lowly, his forehead pressing against her shoulder as if he was barely restraining himself.

“Is this what you wanted?” he murmured against her skin, lips grazing her collarbone, his fingers never stopping.

Lana couldn’t answer.

Could barely think.

All she knew was that she was falling, unraveling, burning alive

And Damian

Damian was the one holding the match.

Lana couldn’t breathe.

She couldn’t think, couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything but feel.

Damian’s hands, his mouth, the unbearable heat between them—it was too much.

And not enough.

He devoured her, his lips dragging over her bare skin, tasting, teasing, tormenting.

The silk of her nightgown was useless, a mere whisper of fabric that did nothing to shield her from him.

From the way his mouth closed around her, his tongue flicking over her hardened peak, his teeth scraping lightly, sending shockwaves of pleasure through her.

Her body arched into him, instinct taking over, her hands burying into his thick, raven-black hair as she gasped his name.

Damian’s breath was hot, ragged, his grip tightening on her hips as if he was barely restraining himself.

“Damian,” she whimpered, her voice barely above a breath.

He lifted his head, his gaze blazing, jaw tight with feral control.

“You don’t know what you do to me,” he murmured, his voice rough, dangerous.

Her pulse pounded.

She could feel it—pressing, burning, demanding.

But he was holding back.

“Then stop holding back,” she whispered unexpectedly, her fingers curling into his bare shoulders, digging into muscle.

Something in his expression snapped.

A low growl rumbled in his throat, his restraint shattering.

Before she could take another breath, he had her pinned beneath him, his weight pressing her into the mattress, his mouth claiming hers in a way that stole her soul.

Deep. Desperate. Unforgiving.

The kiss was a war, a clash of need and defiance, a battle neither of them wanted to win.

His hands dragged down her body, fingers grazing her bare thigh, slipping under the sheer fabric.

Lana shuddered as his touch skimmed higher, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

Then—

He gripped her waist, rolling his hips against hers, the pressure sending a white-hot shockwave through her.

Lana gasped, her nails biting into his back.

Damian groaned against her mouth, his breath ragged, his control slipping by the second.

“You feel this?” he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

His hips rolled again, slow, deliberate, his hardness pressing against her exactly where she needed him.

Lana whimpered.

“I want to hear you,” he rasped, dragging his lips down her throat, lower, lower, tracing a path down her body.

She squirmed, the anticipation unbearable.

“Tell me you want this,” he demanded, his mouth hovering over her aching, sensitive skin.

She could barely think. Could barely form words.

But she managed, barely to whisper one word.

“Yes.”

Damian’s growl vibrated against her just as his mouth closed over her breast again.

His tongue was hot, wet, his lips torturous, his mouth claiming her in ways that made her whole body tremble.

Lana cried out, her fingers tangling in his hair, her thighs clenching around his hips.