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I dropped my face to her neck, kissing the softness. Tasting her. Inhaling her warm scent. I flicked my tongue on her skin, and she shivered, her head falling back, giving me more access. I kissed up and down her neck, nudging her blouse out of the way with my nose and pressing my lips to her collarbone. Her shawl slipped off, and I dragged my mouth to her arms, going back and forth, ghosting my lips over the dark smudges.
“Never again,” I vowed. “He’ll never get close enough to you to touch you again.”
She moaned and cupped my face, her eyes wide and filled with need. “Kiss me, Damien. Please.”
I covered her mouth with mine, our tongues stroking together. Soft and exploring became deeper. Wetter. Hungrier. I held her tightly, encasing her in my arms, delving my hand under her blouse to the warm skin underneath it. I traced the delicate ridges of her spine, our mouths never separating. I was lost in a vortex of sensation. The feel of her hand gripping my hair. The other one clutching my back, her fingernails a sharp press on my skin. The taste of her. Sweet, salty, altogether unique and perfect. The silk of her hair on my skin. The need to feel more. To be closer. My cock was hard and erect. Throbbing with desire for her. Every nerve was awake and snapping, aching with longing. Her low noises and muffled moans spurred me on. I lifted her to the back of the sofa, her legs wrapping around me, pulling me into the heat between her thighs. I swam deeper and deeper with her. Explored her with my tongue and hands. Touched her as much as I dared, wondering how much more I could take. She cupped my erection, and I groaned loudly.
We broke apart, our lips swollen, her hair a mess from my hands, her blouse askew. My shirt was wrinkled, the top two buttons missing. I was gasping for air, my chest pumping rapidly.
Our gazes locked, her eyes muddled with passion, wide with desire, and confused.
“Damien,” she whispered. “You don’t want me to touch you?”
“Jesus,” I responded, hanging my head. “Yes.Yes, I want you to touch me. I don’t want to rush this, Raven. I don’t want you to feel pressured.”
She laughed quietly. “Pressured isn’t what I’m feeling right now.” Then she dragged in a deep breath. “But you’re right. We need to back this up a little.”
I nodded, lifting my head and meeting her eyes. “I fucking hate that you’re right.”
She smiled and traced my cheek, running her finger over my bottom lip. “You are an amazing kisser.”
I caught her finger in my mouth and nibbled the end, then released it with a kiss. “I had an amazing partner.”
Our eyes held and locked. “May I see you again?” I asked.
“Yes, please.”
“Is tomorrow too soon?” Then I shook my head. “Damn, I have events the next two nights. Thursday?” I asked hopefully.
“How about I make us dinner here?” she asked. “We can just relax.”
“I’d like that.” I helped her off the sofa, and she walked me to the door. I looked down at her, marveling at her prettiness.
“Thank you for tonight,” she said, sounding shy again.
I tipped up her chin and kissed her. “My pleasure.”
“Oh, I had a bit of that, too,” she teased.
I kissed her again. “You’ll get a lot of that. I promise.”
She smiled against my mouth. “I look forward to it.”
“Is it okay if I text you the next couple of days?”
“Yes.”
“And if anything happens, you’ll call, right? No matter what I’m doing, I’ll pick up.”
“Okay. I will.” She paused. “Can you call me when you get home? Just so I know you’re safe?”
I felt a warmth in my chest at her words. “Yes.”
I listened for the locks to engage on the door before I left. It was hard to walk away, but I forced myself to do it.
I hated it, though.
* * *
