The city whizzed by the car window, rain streaks on glass. Elena sat stiffly, notebook still clutched in her lap as a barrier, although it would do nothing to protect her from Damien's tempest sitting next to her.

He had not spoken a word since their kiss.

He didn't need to. The stillness was nastier-barded, heavy, like the atmosphere just before thunder. His hand rested negligently on the seat between them, his fingers touching the hem of her coat as if daring her to notice.

Her body noticed. So did all the nerves.

"Where are we going?" she finally replied, her voice trembling.

Damien slowly shifted his face, his black eyes locking onto hers. "Does it matter?

"Yes," she said, sharper than she intended.

His mouth curved, not in humor but in something darker, something that told her he enjoyed her defiance. "You're trembling again."

"I told you-it's the cold."

"Still lying."

Her jaw tightened. "You don't know me well enough to call me a liar."

"Fact is," he took a deep breath, his mouth inches from her ear she could sense his warm breath. His fingers brushed the inside of her wrist and a shiver ran through her. "Your body says it all."

She tried to pull away on her wrist, but he held her-not tight, not hurting, but hard enough to make her realize just how quickly he could hold her there.

"Let go," she breathed.

"Say please."

She gasped for air. His voice wasn't teasing. It was a test, testing depth. She hated herself for the flush that danced in her chest.

"Please," she got out.

For what seemed like forever, he held her stretched, his gaze still locked on hers. And then, slowly, deliberately, released her.

But rather than drawing back, he leaned in-his hand brushing the wet hair from her face, his fingers tracing the line of her neck.

Elena tensed, her heart racing.

"You feel that?" Damien breathed, his thumb pressed against the pounding rhythm of her pulse. "Your body betrays you. Every time."

She opened her mouth, a protest upon her breath, but before she could say the words, he was lifting her chin.

The kiss here was not reluctant. It was ravenous, insisting, his mouth taking her in claim. His hand dropped to the back of her neck, holding her in place as if he already possessed her.

She whimpered against his mouth, but the breath to a whimper changed when his other hand slid along her waist, pulling her closer.

The city outside, rain-soaked beyond, the rain, the leather armchair all receded. Damien alone remained. His mouth, his control, the icy way he seemed to know exactly how to unravel her.

His fingers, clever fingers, lay on her breast. She told herself she meant to thrust him away. But instead, her hands wrapped around that fabric of his shirt, holding hard.

He broke away from the kiss for a moment to whisper against her mouth: "You don't want me to stop."

"Yes, I do," she whispered.

"Liar."

His lips touched her jaw, her neck, the hollow of her collarbone where her shirt clung wetly to her skin. Each touch seared, each kiss a command her body obeyed despite her will. She shivered, torn between terror and lust.

"Damien..." Half warning, half entreaty.

He took a step back, dark, unreadable eyes. He simply looked at her for a moment-pink face, trembling lips, the jerky drop and rise of her chest.

Then, with a deliberation that skirted on deadliness, he took a slow breath and said, "Say my name."

She swallowed. "Damien."

A deep growl came out of him, edging towards satisfaction. His hand slid down her side, on her hip, his fingers sinking in possessively.

Her entire body seared. She despised to hate him. She must escape. But she inched forward instead, forehead colliding with his, lips meeting.

And just when she thought he'd consume her whole-when all her fight on the cusp of explosion-he went stiff.

Damien shoved her away with a harsh motion, recoiled in his chair with a sickening smile.

Elena blinked in dismay, her body protesting the lack of his touch. "Why-why'd you stop?"

His gaze burned into hers. "Because control is mine. Not yours."

The car hit slower speed and rode over, coming to a stop at her apartment complex. Elena hadn't even realized they were going home for the entire ride.

"Go inside," Damien told her, his voice unstoppable. "And we'll figure out what you want. Because the next time, Elena.... His eyes fell to her lips.

".there won't be stopping."

She was racing with a heart, trembling legs as she went out into the rain and opened the door. She didn't even look back, though she could feel the burn of his eyes on her until the car melted into the blackness.

And solitary in her apartment, rain pounding against the floor, Elena realized she had ever been so scared-

Or so desperate for his return.

Elena vowed to herself she wouldn't respond to the message. She wouldn't look out the window. She wouldn't-

And she did.

And there he was. Damien. Standing by his car as if staking his claim on it, shadows curled around him, predator at rest. His eyes lit upon hers almost instantly behind the rain-glazed panes. Everything came to a stop.

Come down.

Two words. An invitation.

Her body carried her before her head knew. Her jacket on, keys in her pocket, and she floated towards the scent of wet cement and night danger.

Fog stuck to her eyelashes as she advanced toward him. Her heart pounding so rapidly that she thought he might hear it.

"You shouldn't be here," she panted.

Damien's eyes slid over her lazily, devouring. "And yet, you are."

She thrust her lips forward to speak, but the words fled from her. He closed the space in two strides, his fingers wrapped around her wrist. Not cruel-never rigid-but possessive, as if she was already his.

Her breathing ceased. "Damien-"

Her protest dissolved in his kiss.

This kiss was no different. This wasn't a test, this wasn't foreplay. This was blaze. His lips were hard and commanding, pulling the air from her lungs. Her hands struck his chest in response, but instead of pushing, they slipped over the softness of his shirt and clutched hard to the storm he unleashed.

His flavor hit her-liquor-sour, whiskey-bitter, and a richer, brasher kiss. She whined before she could bite it back, and he latched onto the sound, nipping her more fiercely. His tongue caressed hers, smooth and bold, and she shuddered.

He had the flavor of sin. Of everything she ought to run from and everything she secretly desired.

Her knees buckled and Damien's arm wrapped around her waist, dragging her into the crook of his body. His other hand was deep in her wet hair, tilting her face to bury the kiss deeper, shoving her away so she couldn't breathe.

Her mind was screaming stop, but her body had betrayed her with every shuddering breath, every leaning into his touch.

"Say you don't want this," he snarled into her mouth, voice raspy.

She tried to say something, but words jammed in her throat. His mouth tracked down the line of her jaw, then on, igniting a hunger-unslaked fire running down the back of her neck. She gasped on her breath coarsely when his teeth closed on the flesh, the bite hot with the fire of his tongue.

"Damien." A prayer she did not even know.

His hand fell beneath her coat, down her waist shape, the cotton hump her blouse clung to wet skin. His belly-hand, hard and gripping, pulled her in until she was all of him on her.

Rain wet her clothes, plastered her blouse to her skin, and his hand became more confident, moving up, exploring the underside of the curve of her breast. She quivered at helplessly, fire searing its way through her, every nerve screaming for more.

Her head was thrown back against the cold metal of his vehicle as his lips again possessed hers, tongue piercing with savage ferocity. He kissed her as if he belonged to her, as if she was a puzzle to be unraveled piece by piece.

It was spinning, reeling, terrified.

Her fingers were digging into his shoulders, looking for balance, nails scrabbling into him as if that would contain the storm within her.

He growled softly in the back of his throat, a vibration against her mouth. His hand came lower this time, over the curve of her hip, his fingers pressing hard, pulling her up into him until she felt the unmistakable proof of his hunger.

Her flesh dissolved to water, a traitor. A cry was torn from her lips, taken by his kiss.

And when the world was spinning so madly she would never know herself again, Damien let her go.

Abrupt. Crude.

He backed off, fingers still on her hip, gasping harshly but his eyes flashing and in control. She was trembling, mouth puffed out, breasts rising and falling against her wetted blouse.

"Because." His voice was gruff. "Because I'm not going to lose control like that."

Damien's retort was tracing her bottom lip with his thumb, his black-lit and dark eyes brimming with potential. "Because control is mine, Elena. And when I take you finally." His voice dropped, steel and velvet.

".you'll beg me not to stop."

Her heart pounded, her knees so weak she was afraid she'd fall on her face.

He stepped back from her, standing there trembling in the night air, the memory of his touch seared onto her skin.

The door of the car creaked open. He was there.

And despite all rational thought telling her to climb out, Elena was getting into the car, still shaking at the kiss she had just received, at the way he had undressed her with hands and mouth only.

She knew it then, in a fear of knowing.

Damien would murder her.

And she was going to let him.

The ride home wasn't quiet. Not the stillness of a stormy, stagnant moment-no, this stillness crackled with electricity of a storm waiting to explode.

Elena sat stiff, her fists gripped in her lap, all of her muscles still thrumming with the kiss. The city lights flashed by, out the window, but she felt nothing but him-the weight of his body on hers, the heat of his body, the pressure of his lips on hers.

The car slowed down, and she flashed open her eyes. They weren't even close to her apartment.

"This isn't-

"My place," Damien growled, voice a low growl, no argument. He was standing by the door of her car with his palm upturned.

Her heart ran. All her cells wailed run. All her cells hummed stay.

And she did.

As soon as she entered, the mood shifted. His penthouse was tidy, spare, and breathtaking-city lights glinting like diamonds between windows floor to ceiling, shadows heaping in corners like secrets. It was a den, not a home.

And she had to deal with the wolf.

Damien closed the door behind her, the ring jingling, shuddering deep inside of her. She spun back to him, words trembling on her lips-questions, denials, something. But when their eyes met, her voice betrayed her.

He stepped between them with gentle ferocity, one hand cradling the curve of her jaw, his fingers lifting her face. "Tell me again," he whispered.

Her breath snagged. "Say what?"

"Want me."

Heat trickled down the sides of her face. She swallowed, almost nothing more than a breath. "I... want you."

That was all that was needed.

His mouth closed over hers before she could even force air into her lungs. Hard and hungry and bruising. His fingers roamed with the same ruthless confidence as his kiss-up the lines of her spine, around her waist, slamming her hand against him.

Her blouse dropped to the floor. His fingers toyed with buttons on her blouse, releasing them one maddening step at a time. By the last one, open, she drew in a gasp, her body on. fire.

His gaze dropped, hungrier, darker, then lifted again to hers. "Beautiful," he growled. Not nice, not sweet but truth. Does not have any cloth on and naked.

Her heart was heavily and continuous pounding clockwise.

And then his fingers fell to rest against her flesh, the warmth of his hands against the cold damp cotton of her bra, and shivers ran down the length of her back. She gasped into his mouth, curving her body to his caress, betraying her again.

"Damien..."

The vibrate of his name on her lips brought a growl from the very core of the center of his chest. He swept her up and drew her toward the huge leather couch, dropping her onto it with a finish unexplained and quick action which made her heart in shock state

He towered over her, pinning her down with his body, resting on her with his eyes. "No more lie, Elena. Beginning today, when I kiss you..." You'll be honest with me."

And then he claimed her.

His lips set fire to a trail along the curve of her neck, his fingers tracing her shape in pitiless detail. Every movement of his fingers gently bring new sounds from her throat, low feeble she could not contain. Her blouse slipped down from her shoulders, and she was almost naked in his sight, city lights shine her skin.

She ought to have him fight off. But she wanted it so badly and that scared her.

The kiss grew forceful, his mouth fighting hers, stealing air. His hand slid lower, claiming possession of lines she did not intend to yield, and the world was boiled down to nothing more than him-his scent, his warm, the impossible grip he had on her body and mind.

Every obstacle between them fell, plank by plank, until there was nothing to hide.

When the final space was crossed, it was as if a dam had been broken-weeks of tension, of fear, of denial spilling over in a holocaust of fire and surrender.

And when they'd finished, when her body lay limp against his, vibrating heavily and undone, Elena saw that she'd gone beyond a line she could not cross back over.

Damien leaned close, his lips brushing her ear, his voice a dark promise.

"You're mine now."

A shiver coursed through her. Not from fear. From the terrifying truth that he was right.

But down there, far below the glittering skyline, there was movement in the darkness. Somewhere in the black city, there were eyes waiting, watching. And Elena, blissfully unaware, had just pledged herself to the most lethal man of them all.