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... of our ragged breathing and the creak of the desk beneath us. My body was wrecked, trembling, sweat cooling on my skin. I thought—hoped—it was over.

But then Damien didn’t soften. He didn’t pull out.

My eyes flew open, my heart lurching when I felt him still hard, still deep inside me. His breath came rough against my ear, his voice a gravelly growl.

"Not yet," he rasped. "I’m not finished."

My stomach dropped. "Damien—" My protest cracked into a gasp as his hips ...

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