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“Nothing new,” he says. “Lift your arms.”
We smile. This is us. Nothing will ever be ordinary or too much or too little. We make our own set of rules. He tugs his T-shirt from my body then sits me on the desk, settling himself between my legs. I lock my hands around his neck. He nibbles on my lips and whispers, “You and me, Bria.”
I shiver at the intensity of his words. His smooth fingers trace patterns down my arms, and he presses his mouth on mine, his tongue parting my lips. My body bends, my mouth opening, needing more of him, of the inexorable feelings and exhilarating sensations he ignites in me, while I freefall into bliss. We are so close right now. Still, it will never be enough to satiate the need inside me, inside us.
“It’s never enough, is it?”
I shake my head in response, and his eyes bore into me.
“How to say this . . . it’s overwhelming how much I love you . . . how you make me feel . . . it borders on craziness. Afraid?”
“Never.”
“Always the braver one.” Fascination flickers inside his eyes, and his lips brush mine. “There has never been and never will be someone other than you.”
“Even when I am old and wrinkled?”
“You’ll remain beautiful. Your beauty will just be marked with years of love and hopefully joy, the proof of a long and happy life I intend to offer you.”
“Are you trying to get inside me because the flattery certainly helps.” He scoffs, his self-assurance a turn on.
“Baby, as if I need flattery to get what I want and is all mine,” He says, dragging his nose up my neck.
“Here, I wondered where my conceited ass of a fiancé went. I knew it wouldn’t last.”
He pins me down, one hand holding my wrist in a tight hold, and the other caressing my neck.
“Say it again,” he dares me, and I bat my eyelashes at him.
“Conceited ass?” I ask, innocence lacing my question.
“You never take the easy way.”
I wait for another round of tickles, but I get something entirely different as he removes his belt. My eyes pop.
“Anxious?”
His deep voice hypnotizes me. It should be illegal for one man to possess so much sex appeal and masculinity. I inhale his scent of spice and sex and wiggle in response.
Damien lowers onto me. I have no way of escaping, and do I want to? No. He nibbles on my earlobe, and I tremble from the contact. I’m momentarily deprived of any rational thoughts as he ties my hands together. His eyes linger over my exposed body with widened pupils, nodding in appreciation. I’m a wet mess, my body always on board with whatever he has in mind, and he dares to tell me I hold the power? Such a sweet lie.
“Beautiful, but I won’t be distracted.”
His voice awakens me from the spell he put me in. I blink as his steel-blue eyes pierce my soul, drawing me to him.
“Where were we? Right, I asked you a question, and what did you answer?”
He baits me, and I act coy.
“I find myself in a rather disadvantaged position that leads me to one answer. I have no idea what you are talking about.”
Damien pinches both my nipples simultaneously, tiny stars explode in my vision, and I moan. My fully pointed nipples salute him, pleading for more attention. Body, it seems we like kinky and hard. I stifle a smile when the realization hits him at the same time.
“Fuck it, it just backfired.”
“What exactly, baby?”
“Let’s see where this leads us, then.”
