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Saying nothing, Damien turned around to sit underneath her, moving between her parted legs. The angle gave him access to her clit, which he covered with his warm tongue while his finger played wicked magic in her bottom.
Her climax didn’t rise slowly or come on in waves. It crashed into her hard, violently, shattering her so she had to clench one fist and shove it in her mouth to stop herself from screaming. Her muscles didn’t so much tremble as tremor, an earthquake pounding every inch of her, inside and out.
Damien didn’t stop. He kept loving her with his mouth and his hands, and she realized the orgasm hadn’t taken the pressure off entirely. No. It quickly began to build again, making her greedy, mindless.
“More,” she cried, suddenly wanting to scratch and claw and claim. “Take me now, Damien, please.”
“My pleasure.”
He began to move up, but she stopped him, making a quick, heart-stopping decision. “Wait. My robe. In the pocket.”
He didn’t ask questions, merely did what she suggested, checking the robe. With two items in his hand, he rose in front of her, between her and the glass. He kissed his way up her body, sucking one nipple, pinching the other, biting her throat, his mood as edgy and dangerous as hers. Then he was kissing her, his tongue plunging deep in her mouth, as it had into her core.
“You’re so wet and hot. This won’t be required,” he mumbled against her lips, lifting the lube. Then he waved the condom. “And we’ve done okay without these.”
“You’re wrong. We do need them,” she said, gripping two fistfuls of his hair. She ground against him, telling him this wasn’t normal desire, this was raging lust. She wanted more wickedness, more naughty pleasure than anyone had ever given her. And she wanted it from him. Now.
“Wait.” He looked down into her face, his eyes questioning.
Staring unflinchingly into his eyes, Viv smiled in challenge, silently explaining to him exactly what she wanted him to do to her.
“You want...”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
She yanked him close and pressed a hot, openmouthed kiss on him, plunging her tongue into his mouth as he had hers. Then she whispered, “Yes, I’m sure. Take me. Do it. I want it now, right here.”
He didn’t protest further, his jaw tightening, the cords of muscle on his shoulders and neck flexing. After one more wet kiss, he moved behind her. He gently pushed her so she was half-bent at the waist, and then gripped her hips.
He was big, so big. A tremor of nervousness attacked her.
He noticed immediately. “Are you all right?”
“Just...slowly.”
She heard a crunch of foil, then felt his fingers, slick with lube, readying her. All those wild sensations she’d experienced a few minutes ago rushed back, and she knew she was, indeed, ready. Ready to be wild, wicked, bad to the bone. But only because she trusted him completely and because she was sure he would never judge her for that wickedness.
Because he was just as wicked as her.
“God, Viv,” he groaned as he gently eased his way between her cheeks, his hands tight on her hips, his cock nudging into her the tiniest bit.
She breathed slowly, deeply, trying to relax, torn between embarrassment, nervousness and utter mindless want.
The want won. The tension was driving her mad, his patience just making her impatient. She pushed toward him, inviting him to take more. And so he did, moving into her ever so slowly, creating all kinds of sensations, not one of which made her inclined to change her mind.
“Tell me when to stop,” he demanded, the words coming out between harsh, choppy breaths.
“Don’t stop,” she demanded, battered by emotions and physical sensations. He was being so careful, so tender, but he felt so good inside her.
This moment was one she would never forget. She’d finally broken out of the shell into which she’d confined herself, taken her identity back, become the fully realized, sexual being she’d always been meant to be.
And he’d brought her here. With his kiss and his touch, his charm and his patience, his mouth, his hands, his cock, his lips, his amazing laugh, his dark, dreamy eyes.
Everything about him had seduced her to this point of utter freedom. She’d given up all her reservations, every inhibition...and she didn’t regret one damn moment of it.
* * *
ALTHOUGH DAMIEN WANTED her to stay with him, to sleep in his arms every night while he was in town, Viv had insisted on going home Sunday evening. And while she’d met him for dinner—and more amazing sex—just about every day after work, she never spent the night. She seemed determined to keep their personal relationship separate from their work one. In fact, she wouldn’t even let him mention the team, beyond informing him at dinner every night that she’d had a fine day at the office. She would then change the subject.
