The kiss lingers in my mind, like a dangerous secret I'm too scared to admit to myself. It wasn't just a kiss. It was an invasion, a reminder of everything I've tried to escape. Damon doesn't care about my resistance—he's relentless, and I feel that now more than ever.
I can still feel the weight of his lips on mine, the heat of his touch, even though he's gone. That kiss wasn't about passion—it was a claim. A warning. And I can't decide whether I want to run from it or dive headfirst into the chaos.
I'm walking the line between two worlds, teetering on the edge of everything I've ever known. And no matter how many times I remind myself of the reasons I should stay away from him, something deep inside pulls me closer to the fire.
I try to focus. I try to tell myself that I've got other things to do, that I don't have time for Damon's games. But the truth is, my every thought is consumed by him. The way he's marked me. The way his words still echo in my head. He's right. I can't escape him. Not physically. Not emotionally.
The knock on the door is sudden, and I jump, the sound breaking through my spiraling thoughts. I freeze, my heart rate picking up as I stand still in my office, caught in the tension of my mind.
"Ella?" The voice on the other side is calm, but I can tell it's Damon.
"Damn it," I mutter, shaking my head. Why can't he just leave me alone?
But I know why. He won't leave. He doesn't do that. Once Damon has his sights set on something, he doesn't back down. And for some reason, I'm the one he's decided to claim.
I push the door open with more force than I intend, the anger bubbling inside me, but I can't keep the flicker of nerves from escaping. Damon stands in front of me, looking almost too relaxed for my taste. His hands are in his pockets, his dark eyes studying me with that unreadable intensity I've grown to hate—and crave.
"I told you I don't want anything from you," I snap, stepping back to give myself space, even though every inch of me is screaming at me to get closer to him. To let myself fall into the pull he's created between us. But I can't. Not like this.
"You can say that all you want," Damon says, his voice calm but thick with something dangerous. "But your body betrays you, Ella. You may try to deny it, but you want this as much as I do."
I can't hide the flare of anger that burns in my chest. "You don't know anything about what I want."
He steps closer, his presence overwhelming, until there's nowhere left to go but up against the desk. He's inches away now, his body so close I can feel the heat radiating off of him. His scent fills the air, wild and intoxicating, making it harder to think straight.
"I know exactly what you want," Damon replies, his voice low, almost a whisper, as though he's savoring the moment. "You just don't know how to admit it."
I open my mouth to argue, but Damon cuts me off by reaching for me. His hand slides along my jawline, his thumb brushing the sensitive skin of my neck. The touch is so gentle, so careful, that it sends a shiver of anticipation down my spine.
"You know you can't keep fighting this, Ella," he murmurs, his lips brushing my ear. "You were made for me. And I was made for you."
His words are like poison, sweet and dangerous, and they curl around my heart like a vine, tightening with every beat. I hate that he's right. There's a part of me that does feel this, that feels the pull between us that I can't ignore.
But I won't let myself fall. Not like this.
I push against his chest, shoving him back. He lets me, though I can tell it's not because he wants to. His eyes flash with amusement, and for a brief second, I see something more in his gaze—something dark and possessive.
"You think you're in control here, Ella?" Damon asks, his voice hardening. "You think you can push me away like everyone else? I'm not like the others. I don't take no for an answer."
I freeze, the words hit me like a slap across the face. He's right. He doesn't take no for an answer. He's never had to. Damon doesn't just want me—he needs me, and he won't stop until he has me completely.
"I'm not yours," I say, my voice trembling slightly despite my best efforts to sound confident. "You don't get to just claim me."
Damon's lips curl into a smile that's more predator than man. "You think I'm giving you a choice?" He steps forward again, his body pressing mine against the desk as he crowds me, the heat between us rising to an unbearable level.
I brace myself against the desk, trying to keep my breathing steady, but it's hard when Damon's presence is so overwhelming. His scent, his warmth, his strength—all of it pulls me in like gravity, and I'm helpless to stop it.
"You don't get it, do you?" Damon's voice is low, and dangerous, as he leans down, his lips grazing my throat. "You're mine, whether you like it or not. And the more you fight it, the harder it's going to be when you finally give in."
I close my eyes, the words sinking deep into my skin. I can't breathe. I can't think. All I can feel is Damon, his hands on me, his breath on my skin, and the unbearable weight of his claim.
"I'm not going anywhere, Ella," he whispers, his lips brushing my ear. "And neither are you."