Chapter 3

Bella felt the world dissolve around her as Damon's lips pressed against hers with a force that left her breathless. The kiss was raw, primal, like he'd been holding back until this very moment. His hands slid to her waist, pulling her against him as if he couldn't bear even an inch of space between them. She gasped, the sound swallowed by his mouth as he deepened the kiss, his fingers digging into the fabric of her dress.

For a fleeting second, her rational mind screamed at her to stop, to pull away before she crossed a line she couldn't uncross. This was Damon Westwood-one of the most powerful men in New York, a billionaire with the kind of reputation that made the strongest of opponents back down. But in this moment, he wasn't the ruthless businessman she'd read about. He was a man on fire, and she was burning right alongside him.

She slid her hands up his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath his shirt, the heat of his body like a furnace against her own. Damon groaned low in his throat, the sound sending a shiver down her spine as his lips moved from her mouth to the sensitive skin of her neck. He kissed a trail down to her collarbone, his breath hot against her skin, and she couldn't help the soft moan that escaped her lips.

"Bella," he murmured, his voice rough, almost desperate. It was the first time he'd said her name like that, and it felt like a caress, like a plea.

"We shouldn't be doing this," she whispered, even as her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer.

"I know," he said, his lips brushing against her ear. "But tell me you don't want this."

She opened her mouth to reply, but the words wouldn't come. Because she did want this. God, she wanted him in a way she hadn't wanted anyone in years. It was maddening, irrational, but it was real. Instead of answering, she kissed him again, her body pressing into his as if that could somehow erase the doubts swirling in her mind.

He lifted her easily, setting her down on the edge of the sleek glass table, the cool surface shocking against her bare skin. Damon's hands were everywhere-tracing the curve of her hip, sliding up her thigh as the slit in her dress fell open. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer, feeling the hard evidence of his arousal pressing against her. It was intoxicating, this power she had over him, this raw need that she could feel radiating from him.

"Damon," she gasped as his mouth found her throat, his teeth grazing her skin in a way that made her toes curl.

"Say my name again," he demanded, his voice a rough whisper against her skin.

"Damon," she breathed, her head tilting back, giving him more access.

He groaned, the sound vibrating against her neck as his hand slid higher, slipping beneath the fabric of her dress. Bella shivered, her nails digging into his shoulders as he pushed the dress up her thigh, exposing the delicate lace of her underwear. His touch was possessive, almost reverent, as if he couldn't believe she was here, like this, with him.

"You're going to ruin me, Bella," he muttered, his lips moving against her ear. "I can already feel it."

"You're not the only one," she managed to say, her voice breathless.

He pulled back then, just enough to look at her, his eyes dark and stormy. There was something vulnerable there, something she hadn't expected to see. For a moment, they were just two people, stripped of their titles and wealth, stripped of everything except the raw desire pulsing between them.

And then, as if a switch had flipped, he stepped back, releasing her like she'd burned him. The sudden loss of his heat was a shock, and she stared at him, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she tried to catch her breath.

"What's wrong?" she asked, the words sharp, almost angry. Her body was still humming with the memory of his touch, and the abrupt distance between them felt like a slap.

Damon dragged a hand through his hair, his jaw clenched tight. He looked almost... tortured, like he was at war with himself. "We can't do this," he said, his voice low and rough. "This is a mistake."

"Is that what you think?" she shot back, sliding off the table, her heels clicking against the polished floor as she straightened her dress. "Because from where I'm standing, it didn't feel like a mistake."

He laughed, but it was a hollow, bitter sound. "You don't understand, Bella. This isn't just about us. There's more at stake here than you realize."

"Then tell me," she demanded, stepping closer, refusing to let him retreat. "What aren't you telling me, Damon? Because I'm not stupid. I know there's something you're hiding."

For a moment, he looked like he might. He opened his mouth, but then his expression hardened, the mask of the ruthless billionaire slipping back into place. "You need to leave," he said coldly, turning away from her.

"Excuse me?" Bella's voice was sharp, her anger flaring. She wasn't used to being dismissed, especially not after what had just happened.

"You heard me," he said, still not looking at her. His shoulders were tense, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. "This was a mistake. It can't happen again."

Bella's eyes narrowed, a mix of hurt and fury bubbling up inside her. She'd opened herself up to him, let herself be vulnerable for just a moment, and now he was pushing her away like she was nothing. "Fine," she snapped, her voice icy. "If that's what you want."

Without another word, she turned and strode toward the door, her head held high, even though her heart felt like it was shattering into a million pieces. She reached for the handle, but before she could pull it open, Damon's voice stopped her.

"Wait."

She froze, her hand on the doorknob, her breath caught in her throat. For a long second, she didn't move, didn't even turn around. She just stood there, every nerve in her body screaming at her to leave before she let herself get hurt even more.

"Bella," he said softly, and this time, when she looked back at him, his face was unguarded. Vulnerable. "I'm not saying this because I don't want you. I'm saying it because I do. Too much."

His admission hit her like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, she couldn't breathe. There was a raw, aching honesty in his eyes that she'd never seen before, and it made her want to reach out to him, to take away whatever pain was hiding beneath the surface.

"Then why are you pushing me away?" she asked, her voice breaking.

Damon stepped forward, closing the distance between them in two strides. He cupped her face in his hands, his thumb brushing away the tear she hadn't realized had slipped down her cheek. "Because if I don't, I'll ruin you," he said hoarsely. "And I can't live with that."

Bella searched his face, trying to understand. But before she could say anything, he kissed her again-this time soft, almost apologetic, as if he were saying goodbye.

Then, with a final, lingering look, he pulled away and opened the door for her.

"Go," he whispered. "Before I change my mind."

And this time, she did.