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He released her hands and wrapped her in a strong embrace as he pressed against her. Her body welcomed him, pulled him deeper. There was a moment of pain, and she couldn’t hold back her slight cry. He paused, soothed, kissed her eyelids, the tip of her nose as he held her tighter and whispered sweet nothings in her ear.
Slowly, her body relaxed, accepted him. He began to move with languid strokes that restoked the flames of desire. She rocked against him in an instinctive rhythm. Sighs turned to gasps. Dampness slicked their skin as they climbed higher, their bodies racing to the top. He braced himself on his elbows, lifted just enough to watch her face.
“Damon... Damon, I can’t...”
“Let go. Let go for me, Evolet.”
She let herself fly over the edge, felt sensation splinter then fracture into thousands of dazzling bursts of pleasure. She cried out again, this time in ecstasy, her legs coming up and wrapping around his waist as she pulled him to her.
He whispered her name, followed her a moment later. He shuddered, his arms clamped around her like a vice.
Slowly, so slowly, they drifted down, heartbeats slowing, breaths quieting as they lay tangled up in each other. Evolet’s fingers drifted up and down his back—her lover’s back—and she sighed in pleasured satisfaction. Damon brushed a soft kiss to her cheek.
Never had she felt so aware of her body, so sure of herself, so reckless in giving rather than protecting.
Reality tried to intrude, to remind her that he was her lover for just tonight, that to lie with him like this in the aftermath of their lovemaking was almost more of an intimacy than what they had just shared.
But she would not deny herself. Days, months, years later, when she looked back on her first time, she would relive the seduction, the foreplay, the incredible act of joining her body with his.
With the remnants of physical pleasure still flickering inside her, a pleasure made all the more potent by embracing the emotions she’d fought so hard to keep at bay, she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.
Damon looked up as Evolet padded into the kitchen, her hair rumpled and her eyes sleepy. The sight of her in one of his T-shirts with those beautiful legs bare sent a bolt of possessiveness through him.
Had it really been two days since he’d first taken her to bed? He hadn’t planned on inviting her to stay the whole weekend. That first night they’d awoken in each other’s arms around midnight. When she’d turned to him with a smile and a whispered thank-you, he’d suddenly wanted to extend the night just a little longer. He’d carried her into the bathroom, drawn a hot bath and cradled her in his arms as he’d washed away the remnants of her first time. His own tenderness had surprised him. He hadn’t been prepared for how intense their first time together would be, the knowledge that not only had he been her first lover but her first choice, her only choice. It had humbled him, touched a part of him he hadn’t known existed and made him want to gather her in his arms and care for her.
And then she’d turned to him, rising up like a siren with water sluicing down over her skin, beading on the tips of her breasts, as she’d arched her body and rubbed herself against him before taking him in hand and stroking him to the point of madness. He’d barely remembered to extract himself long enough to grab a condom out of the nightstand before sinking inside her once more.
Previous affairs had been mutually enjoyed, pleasant, sexy, even invigorating. But never had a woman slipped past his defenses and stirred more than the faintest feelings of companionship.
They’d woken Saturday morning, ordered breakfast and eaten in bed. He’d had a swimming suit delivered so she could enjoy the heated pool he so rarely used. Although, he admitted to himself, it hadn’t been just for her. Watching her body glide through the water had made him so hard he’d whisked her back inside and made love to her on the couch. Afternoon had turned into evening, and when she’d fallen asleep on him while they were watching a movie, he’d carried her back to his bed.
He’d never enjoyed time with a woman so much as he had enjoyed the past couple of days. And that put him on guard. This arrangement was supposed to be about a mutually pleasurable affair, introducing a woman he found interesting and intriguing to sex, not playing house.
Remember that, he ordered himself as he took a sip of coffee and inwardly swore as the scalding liquid burned his tongue.
“Good morning.” He kept his tone casual, stayed with the barrier of the countertop between them.
Her smile punched him in the gut, sleepy and with a hint of bashfulness as she circled around the kitchen island, raised up on her toes and grazed his stubbled cheek with a kiss. “Good morning.”
The husky thread in her voice had his muscles tightening. He forced the desire back and returned her smile.
“Did you sleep well?”
“Aside from getting woken up around midnight, yes,” she teased as she checked him with her hip on the way to the coffee machine.
They’d turned to each other in the night, waking to find themselves wrapped around each other. He hadn’t been gentle, but then neither had she. They’d devoured each other, bodies molded together as they caressed, demanded, took everything they could give each other.
It still wasn’t enough, he thought as his eyes drifted down over her rear, her thighs, her bare feet.
Would it ever be enough?
The thought had him turning away from the intoxicating sight of her and back to the stove.
“I made breakfast. Eggs, bacon and pancakes if you’re hungry.”
As he flipped the last pancake, her arms wound around his waist. He tensed before forcing himself to relax. His own musings and hang-ups could take a break for just a little longer.
“Thank you,” she whispered as she rested her cheek against his back.
