Beads of sweat formed on Damian Fairchild's forehead as he held back.
A large drop trickled down the bridge of his high nose. He gazed intensely at Seraphina Quinn's red-rimmed eyes with his own dark, almond-shaped ones, his voice raspy. "You can become whatever you want to be."
Seraphina Quinn's expression was a little dazed.
But Damian Fairchild didn't give her much time to remain that way.
He swept Seraphina Quinn into his arms and carried her to the large bed.
Seraphina Quinn's emotions were still torn.
One part of her drowned in the profound comfort and overwhelming passion Damian Fairchild offered, while another part of her felt utterly cheap.
After all, Damian Fairchild had never lacked for women.
And yet, after everything, here she was, entangled with him again.
So her emotions were not just torn; she was on the verge of breaking down.
