Chapter 9 The Marks You Call Yours

When Lila replayed every sweet moment between her and Damian in her mind, it all curdled into shame. The sting lit a fuse. She jerked her knee upward, driving it toward his groin with all her strength. But he was faster. His hand shot down, trapping her defiant knee. Without uttering a single word, his other hand went for her gown. The fabric tore with a sharp rip and slid from her shoulder to her chest, baring a wide swath of skin. Just below her collarbones, a few hickeys that hadn't fully faded pulled his gaze. He was the one who had left them that day. Damian's eyes went dark, his thumb grinding down on that spot in punishment. "Look at you. You're still wearing my marks. And you're breaking up with me?" Lila stilled. Mockery sparked in her eyes as she met his lust-clouded gaze. "Mr. Cross, are you sure those are yours? Come closer and breathe it in. That's not your cologne. Mr. Draven prefers cedar." At that, Damian dragged his palm hard over her skin. She was his! He wasn't