43

"Hi, Principessa," he greeted.

"Wrong time to start talking, Damon."

Damon placed both hands on the marble edge. With perfect synchronization, Arabella parted her legs, making space for him to position himself between them. In that moment, he felt like he should never have left that spot.

Sabrina? Mason? No one else existed.

He began to sink into Arabella's body, sliding into her as if he were made for it. Everything happened in slow motion. Their eyes were locked on each other, reflecting pure malice. Damon looked at the woman as she moaned, then looked at himself through the reflection in the mirror.

The man's lips traveled to Arabella's throat, and she embraced him with arms and legs. He wanted to put every inch of her into his mouth, savor her skin, and elicit moans, knowing exactly what to do and how to do it. And despite being in his comfort zone, Damon held his breath every time Arabella squeezed him.

Every movement excited them more, leading them to the precipice of pleasure s