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A flash of insecurity strikes. A woman like Sophia can have anyone she desires. But no other man will care for her as much as I do, and that knowledge builds the foundation for me to try. I might fail at winning her over, but it’s better to try and fail than to never make the attempt. I can survive failure. If there’s one good thing about failure, you learn it’s survivable. If she brushes me away, I won’t die. It’ll hurt, but I’ll still do whatever I can to protect her.
“Damian?” My name from her lips, when it’s just the two of us, secures my heart. “Kiss me.”
CHAPTER24
FISHER
“Kiss me.” The small, breathless whisper serves as my undoing. Or who am I kidding? She is my undoing. This is wrong. I shouldn’t be with her, but I’ll never leave her side. Not willingly.
We’ve had one week together, and my body and mind are hers. I capture her lips with a raw hunger and possessiveness that elicits moans. I grab her ass and lift her, ignoring the stubborn ache in my sore shoulder, crushing her to me. She wraps those legs around me, rubbing her core against me. Her fingers roam the back of my neck while my tongue plunders her mouth. I can’t get enough of her.
She breaks the kiss and pants, “Now, Fisher.” Her fingers claw at my shirt, tugging, demanding.
I back away from the wall and set her down on the bed. Within seconds, my shirt’s off and tossed. I’m so fucking hard, and while I’d like nothing more than to ram myself inside her, this is Sophia. Her chest rises and falls in rapid-fire succession, and her fingers clutch the comforter. She’s waiting, letting me lead.
“Strip.” The hunger in those baby blues sucks the oxygen clear out of my lungs.
She holds my gaze as she takes off her sweater, then her bra. Her pale, peaked nipples point upward, begging to be nibbled and sucked. She stands and undoes her pants, wiggling to aid their descent to the floor. They get caught on her boots, and since I’m already on the floor, kneeling to remove my socks and shoes, I tell her, “Let me.”
Her black cotton panties are the only clothing item left on her long, lithe body, and as I kneel before her, I’m struck by her beauty. With her boots and socks discarded, I palm the back of her thighs, up to her ass, and bring her sex to my mouth. I kiss her over her panties, then blow over her tender skin.
I grin up at her as I tug down those panties. She steps out and pulls on me, wanting me to stand, but I grip the globes of her ass with both hands and bring her to me, tasting her. She’s wet and eager, and my tongue licks over her a handful of times before her back is arching and her thighs squeeze together.
Her fingers play in my hair, directing my mouth, letting me know with little whimpers and moans when I’m right where she needs me. Her thighs flex. Her core tightens. She’s close. With a quiver, her weight falls against me, using me for support.
“I want you inside me,” she breathes out. “Fuck, Fisher.”
“Responsive tonight?” I kiss and suck my way up her body.
“I need… I can’t explain it. Just…inside me…now.”
I pause on my journey up her body to lash my tongue around the pebble-hard peak of her breast, and she gives my hair a hard pull.
“Now.”
She backs up onto the mattress, crawling backward, those brilliant, stubborn eyes locked on mine, her lips wet and swollen, her skin flushed.
I crawl up the bed, positioning myself between her spread thighs. My pulse beats a thousand beats a minute, my breaths are quick, and my cock weeps with need, jutting out, begging to take her. I hold myself up, hovering over her, as I claim her mouth once again, my hardness pressed into her belly. She squirms, and her fingers wrap around my length, demanding.
I brush her hands away and guide my tip through her wet center, back and forth. She whimpers. “Please.”
“Look at me.” She raises her gaze from where I tease her. “Eyes on me.”
And then I sink into her. She’s tight. Glorious. She feels so fucking good. I strain, pulling back and pushing forward until every bit of me is inside her, surrounded by her heat.
“Fuck, Sophia. Damn, you feel good.”
And then we find our rhythm. Her thighs press against my hips, and she rocks against me. Captivating me. So many sensations and emotions swirl, it feels like my ribcage will explode. That’s when it hits me. I’m making love to her. This is what it’s like to make love to someone precious, to someone who has the power to drive you crazy, to make you cast aside reason and logic.
Those swollen, full lips purse, and her eyelids close, and her body quivers around me. I reach between us and tease her nipple, twisting and tweaking, and she releases a series of sexy little sounds that drive me to the brink. Her eyelids flutter open, and my lips fall over hers, kissing her as I thrust into her, lost to her. My orgasm rips through me, surging like an explosion.
I collapse over her, sucking in air. Her hands flatten over my back as her arms tighten around me, holding me close. We lie there like that, our hearts beating wildly, out of control. Once our breathing normalizes, I roll over, pulling her naked, sweaty body against mine. We’re on top of the hotel comforter, but I don’t have the desire to move us, not yet. I don’t want to ever move.
She presses her lips to my chest, and my fingers go to her hair. The hair is coarse, rough, and the scalp unnatural. I tug.
“Ow.” She sits up and pulls at the wig, removing it herself. There’s a skullcap, and she removes that too, along with clips and a band. Matted auburn hair tumbles down. I reach up to toy with the ends, but she scoops up her hair gizmos and waltzes naked into the bathroom.
I get up and pull the comforter back and slide between the cool sheets. With one arm resting behind my head, I wait, eyes trained on the bathroom door. The toilet flushes and the sink runs. Minutes tick by.
