Page 47 of Damián

I part his lips with my tongue, tasting the sweet, dark plum sauce from dinner and the champagne we just had.

He feels incredible.

He’s stiff at first, but as I trace his tongue with mine, he melts, collapsing against my chest with a soft, needy whimper that nearly makes me lose my damn mind.

I slide one hand down his spine, palming the folded list of names. I trail my hand lower, letting my fingers brush the curve of his butt, earning another sharp gasp from him, before I swiftly slip the paper into his back pocket.

To make absolutely sure no one would ever think I was just slipping a note, I open both of my palms and grope him so hard his body lifts from my lap.

“Ah… Damián…” he moans.

And I don’t know if it’s for show or for real, but the noise lights me on fire.

I pull him closer, and I kiss him.

Really, really kiss him.

I angle my head, deepening it, biting gently at his lower lip. I lick, bite, suck, and taste all I can reach of him.

My cock at this point is harder than it has ever been, and it’s begging me to pull the tablecloth off, shove the dishes away, and bury myself in Oliver right here, right now. I’m losing myself in his taste, his sounds, and the desperate way he clings to me.

The sound of the paper screen sliding should’ve warned me to stop, but by now, I really don’t care who sees us.

The waitress lets out a loud gasp. “O-Oh! Apologies, sirs! The dessert!”

Oliver jerks back, his face flushed crimson, trying to scramble off my lap, but my arm is locked around his waist.

I pull him back down against me.

“Just leave it on the table, thank you,” I say to the waitress, not taking my eyes off Oliver.

She sets the plates down and slides the door shut as fast as humanly possible. Oliver is breathing hard against my chest, his gaze completely locked onto mine. His pupils are blown wide, his plump lips slick and swollen from my mouth.

He looks so good… and a strange feeling fills my chest as I realize I made him look that way.

“Silvio was watching,” I whisper, my thumb stroking his flushed cheek. “Just hold it for a few more seconds.”

Oliver nods slowly, and then does something unexpectedly perfect… he leans forward, resting his forehead against mine, and then presses a soft kiss to my lips.

My heart tightens, and I feel strange.

I want to run away, just as much as I want to stay.

So without anything else to do, I wrap both arms around him, burying my face in his neck, and we stay like that until the shadows outside the door finally drift away.

CHAPTER 6

OLIVER

Ireally can’t explain it. By all logic, this should be the most nerve-wracking, holy-shit, terrifying period of my entire life.

I mean, I just planted two new pieces of spyware in my father’s business, I’m actively feeding the CIA information so damn sensitive that if anyone found out, it would get me and everyone I care about killed.

And let’s not forget… I’m casually making out everywhere with a ridiculously hot former CIA spy.

So yeah, maybe I should be scared and dying from the stress, but in reality?

This past month has been the best time of my life.