Darren didn't get a chance to reply. Damian's mouth crashed against his, a brutal, demanding collision of teeth and lips. There was nothing soft about the kiss. It was an invasion. Damian's tongue pushed past Darren's teeth, seeking out his own, swirling in a thick exchange of saliva that slicked their lips. Darren groaned, his coat dropping to the floor as his hands found the hard muscles of Damian's chest. The fabric of the silk shirt was thin, telegraphing the frantic heartbeat of the man beneath.
You think you can just walk away? Damian growled, his face buried in the crook of Darren's neck. He bit down on the sensitive cord of muscle there, his teeth grazing the skin hard enough to leave a mark. You belong in my office. And you belong in my bed.