Chapter 9 9

Brook stood frozen on the sidewalk.

The freezing night wind whipped her hair around her face.

She stared at Damon's dark eyes, shook her head, and turned to walk toward the corner.

Damon's expression darkened instantly.

He shoved the heavy car door open and stepped out.

His long legs ate up the distance between them in two strides.

His large hand shot out and wrapped completely around her thin wrist.

He pulled her backward, his strength overwhelming.

Brook stumbled, her back hitting his solid chest as he shoved her roughly into the back of the SUV.

M. Black slammed the door shut from the outside.

The thick, soundproof partition behind the driver's seat slid up with a soft hum.

Brook scrambled to sit up on the leather seat.

Are you out of your mind? This is kidnapping.

She yelled, her chest heaving as panic set in.

Damon ignored her words entirely.

He shifted his massive body, crowding her into the corner of the seat.

His eyes dropped to the deep V of her dress, a dangerous, possessive fire burning in his gaze.

He reached up and violently yanked his silk tie loose.

He wrapped the expensive fabric around his knuckles.

Who are you trying to seduce dressing like this.

His voice was a harsh, guttural whisper.

Brook forced herself not to shrink away.

I am showing respect to my future husband. It has nothing to do with you.

She spat the words at him, a cold smile on her lips.

That sentence shattered the last wall of Damon's control.

His hand shot up, his fingers clamping hard around her jaw.

He crushed his mouth against hers.

It was not a kiss; it was a brutal invasion.

It tasted like copper and rage, a desperate attempt to mark his territory.

Brook hit his shoulders with her fists.

She kicked her sharp heels against the floor mats, trying to break his hold.

He did not move an inch.

Damon's large hand slid down her bare spine.

He pinched the sensitive skin at her waist hard.

Brook let out a muffled gasp of pain against his mouth.

Hot, humiliating tears welled up in her eyes and spilled over her lashes.

Her body was betraying her, reacting to his physical dominance.

Damon felt the wetness on her cheeks and slowly pulled his lips away.

His body remained rigid, hovering over hers.

No other man is ever going to touch you.

He whispered the threat directly against the skin of her neck.

Brook sucked in a ragged breath.

She raised her hand and slapped him directly across the face with all the strength she had left.

The sharp crack echoed loudly in the sealed, silent cabin.

The air in the car instantly turned to ice.

Damon's head snapped to the side.

He pushed his tongue against the inside of his cheek, tasting blood.

He slowly turned his head back to look at her.

His eyes were terrifyingly calm, completely devoid of human emotion.

He reached down and slowly unbuttoned his suit jacket.

Brook felt her stomach drop.

She realized he was actually going to ruin her right here in the backseat.

Suddenly, the phone inside her clutch started vibrating aggressively.

Damon glanced down.

The screen glowed with the name Helen Moore.

He let out a dark laugh, reached out, and pressed the answer button, putting it on speaker.

If you are one minute late, I am pulling the funding for your incubator tomorrow.

Helen's sharp voice filled the car.

Damon's eyebrows twitched slightly.

He caught the word funding.

Brook shoved hard against his chest, using his moment of confusion to snatch the phone.

I am almost there.

She forced her voice to sound perfectly normal.

She hung up the phone and looked up at Damon.

Her eyes were completely exhausted, stripped of all their fight.

If you ruin my work tonight, I will hate you for the rest of my life.

The word hate pierced straight through Damon's chest like a physical blade.

His hands stopped moving.

A dark, unreadable emotion flickered in his eyes, making his expression even more terrifying. His jaw tightened, and the coldness in his eyes seemed to solidify into something sharp and dangerous.

He slowly pushed himself off of her and sat back against the opposite door.

He adjusted his suit jacket, his face returning to a cold mask.

He knocked twice on the glass partition.

Take us to the restaurant.

He ordered, his voice completely hollow.