A Ruthless kind of love

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.