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8
She was floatingabove the floor, adrift. But this time it was okay because she was inDamian’sarms.
And nothing bad would ever happen to her while she was inDamian’sarms.
He lowered her onto the bed gently, carefully, like she was a rare and precious thing. For a long moment, he stood looking down at her, his chest rising and falling, his eyes dark with an emotion shecouldn’tname.
She expected his eyes to sweep her body. She’d caught a glimpse of herself in the bathroom mirror. She knew she was too thin now, her skin pale from lack ofsunlight.
But he seemed more interested in her face, and he studied her for a long time before shespoke.
“I don’t look the same,” she said. “I’msorry.”
Surprise passed over his features. “You’re sorry? Why are yousorry?”
She hesitated, suddenly feeling vulnerable spread out naked in front of him. “It must be hard to look atmenow.”
“Hard to…?” He shook his head, ran a hand through his hair. He lowered himself to the bed and ran a hand from her temple down her cheek, over the curve of her jaw and down her throat. “It’s only hard to look at you because I want you so much. And it feels wrong to want you with all you’ve beenthrough.”
“It’s not wrong,” she said. “It’s the only thing that feelsright.”
He let his eyes travel the length of her body, his hand resting on one of her breasts, his fingers teasing the nipple into a peak. She waited, letting him take his time, trying not to squirm under his hand as his fingers ignited a fire in herbelly.
He returned his gaze to her face. “You have no idea how much I’ve missedyou,Aria.”
She met his eyes. “Showme.”
His eyes darkened to pools of ebony fire as he leaned over her body. The touch of his shirt against her bare skin sent a shiver through her body. She thought he would kiss her. Instead he lowered his face to her collarbone, nuzzled against her tender skin until she gasped with the pleasureofit.
He pressed his lips firmly against her neck, his tongue darting out to taste her, a lick of fire against her already-fevered skin. She lifted a hand to his chest, let it travel up the hard peaks and valleys on the way to his neck. His hair was as soft as she remembered and she plunged her fingers into the silky locks at the back of his head as he kissed his way upherneck.
She was already writhing on the bed. Already wetforhim.
He continued along her jaw toward her mouth, his kisses as light as a summer wind, his hand still working her nipple between hisfingers.
He kissed the corners of her mouth and hovered over her lips, his breath mingling with her own in the moment before he lowered his headtohers.
The kiss was gentle at first, almostchaste.
She closed her eyes, let his lips sink into hers, let herself revel in the fact that itwasreal.
That hewasreal.
Then his tongue parted her lips and the embers that had been smoldering at her center erupted into a full-fledged fire. She opened her mouth to him, heard his growl as his tongueinvadedher.
Now there was no hesitancy. Nogentleness.
It was all need and urgency, a mandate to be as close as they couldpossiblyget.
His hand slid into the hair at the back of her neck, tipping her head to give him better access to her mouth. She sank deeper into the exploration of his tongue, the sweeps and parries of it as familiar as if she’d kissed himyesterday.
As familiar as if she’d kissed him every day of her life for a hundredlifetimes.
She reached for the bottom of his T-shirt, tried to lift it without breaking their kiss. It was impossible and she finally broke away for the briefest ofmoments.
“I need you naked, Damian. I need to feel your skin onmyskin.”
He stood without a word and stripped off his shirt. She had the feeling she could have asked for the moon and he would have plucked it from the sky for her. Not just at that moment but at anymoment.
