Page 24 of The Billionaire's Obsession

“Fuck, woman, what you do to me,” he groans before he crashes his lips down onto mine. “I’d tear this world apart for you, you know that? That’s how crazy you make me.”

Maybe I shouldn’t but I bask in his praise.

His hand slides up my back, cradling my neck with a gentleness that belies his earlier threats. "Let's go home," he murmurs against my ear. "I want you all to myself."

As he leads me back through the glittering crowd, I catch Sebastian Reed watching us from across the room. He raises his champagne glass in a silent toast that feels like a warning. Damon's hand tightens on mine, a silent claim that everyone in the room can read.

I lift my chin, meeting Sebastian's gaze directly before deliberately turning away. That, at least, is my choice. A small one, perhaps, but mine. And for tonight, these small choices will have to be enough.

Tomorrow, I'll draw clearer boundaries. Tomorrow, I'll be stronger, more decisive.

Tonight, though, I let Damon wrap me in his coat as we step into the cool night air, let him pull me close in the back of the Rolls-Royce, let myself sink into the intoxicating danger of belonging to someone like him.

"Mine," he whispers against my skin as the city lights blur past the tinted windows.

I allow myself to whisper back, "Yours."

CHAPTER

TWELVE

Damon

I seeher before she sees me. Lucy. My obsession. My addiction. She enters the restaurant in a simple dress that clings to her curves in a way that makes my mouth go dry and my hands clench. She has no idea how beautiful she is, how every man in this room just sat up straighter. But they can look all they want. They can't have her. She's mine. Only mine.

Normally I have her with me at all times, but I had a meeting across town and I left her at the office while I went to it with instructions that she meet me here for dinner. I know I’m going to sound dramatic, but the hours without her have been torture. I could barely fucking focus thinking about her.

The restaurant hums with conversations and the clink of silverware against plates. Waiters dressed in crisp white shirts weave between tables with practiced ease. I'm seated in the back, in my regular booth that offers the perfect view of the entire space. The table before me is covered with contracts and spreadsheets that I should be reviewing, but the moment she walks in, those papers might as well be blank.

Lucy scans the room, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear with that nervous gesture that always makes something in my chest tighten. She doesn't spot me yet. Good. I like watching her unobserved, cataloging every microexpression on her face. The way her teeth worry her bottom lip. The way her fingers fidget with the small purse hanging from her shoulder.

Our age gap should bother me. It doesn't. Nothing about us follows the rules anyway.

Two weeks we've been together. Two weeks since I had her move in with me. Two weeks of making her come so hard she cries. Two weeks of possessing every inch of her body. Two weeks—and I'm already more obsessed than I've been with any woman in my entire life.

My phone buzzes with a call I should take, but I silence it without looking. Nothing is more important than watching her right now.

Nothing.

She moves toward the bar, probably looking for me there since that's where I told her to meet me. And that's when I see him. Carter Fucking Reynolds. My most ruthless competitor. The man who's been trying to take down my tech company for the past three years.

He's moving toward Lucy like a shark scenting blood in the water.

My body goes rigid, every muscle locking into place. The pen in my hand snaps, blue ink bleeding across my palm like a wound. I don't feel it. I don't feel anything but white-hot fury flaring through my veins.

Reynolds reaches her before I can stand. His hand—his fucking hand—touches the small of her back, casual, proprietary. As if he has any right. As if anyone but me has the right to touch her there. I can't hear what he's saying over the noise of the restaurant and the blood pounding in my ears, butI see Lucy's polite smile. The same smile she gives to strangers. She doesn't know who he is. That he's my enemy.

But that doesn’t matter because an irrational part of me wouldn’t give a fuck who it was. The fact remains that she’s smiling at someone else and selfish bastard that I am, I want all her smiles

All of her.

She’s motherfuckingmine.

I stand so abruptly that my chair crashes backward. A few diners glance my way, but I don't care. I can't tear my eyes from the way Reynolds leans in closer to Lucy, the way his lips curve in a predatory smile as she laughs at something he says. A laugh that should be mine. Only mine.

My body is moving before my brain catches up. I shoulder past waiters and diners without apology. All I see is Reynolds' hand sliding down from Lucy's back to rest at the curve of her hip. All I hear is her laugh, light and unfamiliar, given to someone who isn't me.

I'm close enough now to hear his voice, smooth and practiced. "—always happy to help promising students. My foundation offers several scholarships."

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