“Damon,” I whisper. I recognize the look in his eyes now, “Stop.” “Do you really want me to stop?” he growls, placing his hands against t...e wall on either side of me. He brings his face to mine, so I can feel his breath on my skin. “Kiss me,” he whispers. “Damon,” I breathe. “Just kiss me,” I can feel his lips move on my jaw line, but when he stops speaking there is still air lingering between us. I shake my head. “I know you want to kiss me,” he teases. “No,” my lips barely form the. Within a few weeks I started looking forward to my nightly romp. I would be practically bouncing, giddy with the idea of getting upstairs for another furious attack of my pleasure center.This was when the hate set in. I realized that the experiment was proving successful and I was upset. Upset with myself for being manipulated so easily. Upset with my husband for actually following through and finally hate, real hate that I had no intention of quitting because I was addicted to the feelings. More

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