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18
Damian lay naked in bed, turning over everything that had happened in his mind. Any other time he would have been focused on the operation that was about to commence, on the plans that had been carefully put into place and that would have to be just as carefully executed to minimize damage to his organization.
But all he could think about was her.
He should have gone back to the city as soon as he’d gotten her settled. In fact, he shouldn’t have invited her to the Long Island house at all. It was more than a breach of protocol; it was a fucking catastrophe in the making.
And yet there had been nothing left to do when he’d seen the cut on her lip. He wanted to believe it was due to his broken psyche, his inclination to help every damsel in distress that was put in his path.
He knew it was a lie.
It was Aria. There was something about her, something about the combination of strength and vulnerability that moved him. She didn’t want to be a victim, didn’t want his pity, but somehow that made him want to protect her even more.
Now he was in a hell of his own making, Aria Fiore on the other side of the wall, probably sprawled out on the bed, the moonlight streaming in through the balcony doors. He’d heard her running a bath, had tried to force from his mind the image of her stepping naked into the water, sinking into the tub, the water lapping against her nipples as she settled back with a sigh.
His cock had been hard ever since. He turned over, punched the pillow under his head. He was debating getting up, dressing, heading back to the city now before he could do something he would regret, when the door to the room eased open.
He was reaching for his gun when he saw her silhouette in the doorway. He remained perfectly still, his eyes on hers across the darkened room. A long moment passed before she stepped into the room, and he moved back on the bed, making room for her as she approached.
He thought she would lay down with her back to him. Maybe she just wanted to be held.
Instead she crawled into bed facing him, stretched her body out against his. He stifled a moan as her softness molded itself to him, filling every hard crevice of his body.
She reached up, touched his face, slid her arm around his neck as she hooked one leg over his hip, the heat of her center like a firebox against his swollen cock. Her face was close, so close. He could smell the mint on her breath when she whispered against his lips.
“Let’s not talk about it, Damian.”
He groaned, flipped her under him, captured her mouth with his. Then there were no more barriers between them. There was just his mouth plundering hers, exploring every shadowed corner as her tongue met him thrust for thrust. She swept his mouth, no hesitancy or uncertainty in her movements, leaving no doubt that she had no second thoughts about what they were doing.
Not yet anyway.
He pushed the thought aside and let his hands roam her body, down her elegant neck and across her prominent collarbone. He cupped one of her breasts, plump and full in his hand, thumbed the nipple with his finger until she moaned into his mouth.
Her leg was still hooked around his hip, his cock nestled into the heat of her pussy, barely tempered by the thin strip of fabric that was her underwear. He let his hand travel down to her waist, over the voluptuous curve of her ass, along the thigh wrapped around him.
Her skin was like satin, and he allowed his hands to roam back the way they had come until he was cupping her face, his lips and fingers vying for position on her lips.
“Damian…”
Her voice was a gasp in the dark that fanned the flames of his desire. He didn’t know what would happen to them after tonight, but right now she knew she was in his arms, knew he was the one stoking the fire in her body.
It was the only thing that mattered to him.
He kissed his way down her neck, lingering over the collarbone that had been taunting him since he first met her, dipping his tongue into the well there, tasting the salt on her skin.
She was already writhing under him when he moved to her chest, teased her erect nipples through the thin fabric of his T-shirt. He reached for the hem of it and pulled, grateful for the lift of her body as she helped him get it off. Then she was naked under him except for the lace of her panties. He wanted those gone, too, but the last thing he needed was more temptation. He was already fighting the urge to drive into her, forcing himself to take his time. This might be the only opportunity he had to explore her body.
He was going to make it count.
Lowering his head to her breast, he inhaled the scent of her. It moved through his bloodstream like a wildfire, and his cock, already painfully hard, throbbed between his legs. Her hands moved along his back as he lapped at one of her nipples with his tongue, teasing the pale pink bud before sucking it into his mouth.
She moaned and her hips came up off the bed, her hands gripping the sheets at her side as he worked one nipple with his mouth, the other with his free hand, rolling it gently between his fingers.
She slid a hand between their bodies and closed her palm around his cock. He growled as he felt the heat of it encircle him. He was dangerously close to losing control.
And he was nowhere near done with her yet.
He grabbed both her wrists in one hand, lifted her arms over her head, stretched his body out on hers until his cock was nestled in the sweet folds of her pussy.
