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His eyebrows lift.

“Is that your way of asking me to stay?”

I reach for him.

For once, there is no hesitation.

No wondering whether I should.

No little voice telling me I'm reading too much into this or wanting something I shouldn't.

I simply curl my fingers around the back of his neck and pull.

Damian comes to me willingly.

“It's my way of telling you to kiss me quick so we can eat. I didn't make enough for you to waste any.”

That slow, devastating smile spreads across his face.

The one that does terrible things to my common sense.

“Bossy.”

“Hurry up and kiss me, Damian.”

His eyes flare red.

“Yes, Sweet.”

He does.

And I kiss him back.

Not like last time.

There isn't the same frantic desperation. No fear that this might be the only night we ever have.

This kiss is slower.

Softer.

Damian's hands settle at my waist, but he doesn't pull me closer until I lean into him first.

Then his arms tighten.

And Goddess, I feel it.

Not just his mouth.

Not just the heat of his body or the strength in those arms.

Him.

Damian.

His relief.

His hope.