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‘Carrie...’ He groaned. ‘If you keep doing that you’re going to kill me,’ he said on a pained laugh.
She laughed, too, but released him as his hands firmly gripped her hips to rip away her shorts. She positioned herself above him, her pulse leaping with enthusiasm for what she knew was coming next, before slowly sliding herself down his length, his firm hands on her hips helping to guide her.
As she took him all the way inside her Damon’s fingers bit into her skin to hold her still. His eyes locked on hers, the connection burrowing into her soul, and as he fitted within her so deeply, so perfectly, it was as though he was her missing piece.
When she could stand it no longer Carrie began to move her body, sliding up and down his remarkable length. Their mouths sought each other’s, open and greedy, and as the friction built beneath Carrie’s skin Damon began to caress her flesh where their bodies were connected, pressing the pad of his thumb to the bundle of nerves to intensify the sensations taking over her entire being.
His mouth sought her nipple again, coaxing it into a hard peak with the wetness of his tongue, and with those ministrations sending her hurtling towards a beautiful oblivion Carrie lifted and sank on his length with increased need. The joy of his thickness penetrating so deeply and sweetly inside her was all that mattered in the world. All she wanted was to savour their joining. To prolong it.
Damon braced an arm against the back of the sofa and thrust as she sank, and Carrie pressed her hands to his shoulders as his rhythm pushed her into territory that had her gasping and edging towards explosion. After a further thrust from Damon she tumbled over the edge in a shattering of emotion, to be quickly followed by Damon with only a single word emerging from his mouth.
‘Carrie.’
CHAPTER TEN
DAMONSTIRREDANDreached out an arm, only to discover that the bed was empty. His eyes flew open, his body tensing at the possibility that it had all only been another of his vivid dreams. But then he caught that light flowery scent on the sheets and knew it had been real. He and Carrie had spent the last twelve hours in bed together and, far from experiencing any guilt about that, all he felt was disappointment that he was alone amongst the tangled sheets.
Setting out in search of her, he headed straight for the kitchen, guided not just by his instincts but the scents drifting throughout the house. And sure enough there she was, her hands a blur as she diced and rolled and stirred.
Damon watched her quietly for a moment, shamelessly appreciating the sight of her in his shirt, her bare legs on display and the material made almost translucent by the slant of the late-day sun. Once again he tested his feelings, waiting to feel that sharp stab of guilt that he had broken his vow and bedded the enemy—but there was nothing of the kind.
In sharing the whole truth about the day his father had died he’d only wanted to enlighten her as to why his emotions got the better of him whenever her father was mentioned. But as he had confided in her Damon had realised he was giving her the ability to better understand him, and the freedom that had come with that, and the release he’d felt after finally sharing his harrowing experience, had been so profound that he’d wanted more of it. Had wanted to shine a light on the shadows that haunted him. To rip at the ties that bound him, the bonds of his own creation.
And kissing her had done exactly that. Kissing her had felt like freedom and peace. And it had felt so good to stop fighting his feelings and embrace them that he hadn’t stopped kissing her. Hadn’t stopped at all. And the surrender had been divine.
Coming up behind her, Damon slid his warm hands around her waist, liking the way she instantly melted against him. Brushing her hair aside, he grazed his lips against the tender skin of her neck, where she liked to be nuzzled, increasing the pressure as she murmured her pleasure. At the same time his fingers loosened a single button at the front of the shirt, so his hand could slide inside, teasing across her ribcage and up to her breasts. He cupped the generous swells, repeating the slide of his fingers across her nipples as her body arched in response to the sensation.
‘That’s the second time I’ve woken in a bed that you should have been in and weren’t,’ he whispered into her ear.
‘You were sleeping and I didn’t want to disturb you. I also thought you’d be glad of something to eat when you woke up,’ she murmured.
‘Hmm, I’m definitely hungry.’ He continued the assault of his lips against her neck, shifting towards the lobe of her ear and the hollow beneath her jaw whilst his fingers played with her nipples until they were taut and she was squirming. ‘You sure that’s the only reason you didn’t stay in bed?’
The minuscule hesitation in both her speech and her hands affirmed that his suspicion was correct. She was baking because she was anxious about something.
‘I thought you might feel differently once you woke up,’ she admitted, and he felt the sudden drum of tension beneath her skin. ‘That you might regret...’
Damon held on to her tighter. ‘I told you already... I don’t regret anything.’
‘If you did, I’d understand,’ she continued, as though he hadn’t spoken. ‘You were upset, and in need of comfort, and...’
‘Carrie.’ He turned her, tilting her head back so their eyes connected. ‘I don’t regret a single thing that’s happened between us.’ It felt very important that she knew that. ‘At one point I wanted to. Desperately. But I never did. And I don’t regret today. I don’t want to undo anything. I want to do it again and again and again.’
He punctuated each word with a kiss, revelling in every murmur she made before pulling her even tighter against him until there was not a single part of their bodies not touching.
‘But nothing’s changed,’ Carrie breathed, fearful shadows dancing in her eyes. ‘The past...’
‘I’m not interested in the past right now.’
All that ugliness felt a long way away, and all he cared about, for the first time in a long time, was what was right in front of him. The happiness that he could reach out and take. That hewantedto reach out and take. Everything else was irrelevant.
‘I’m only interested in this. In us.’
And in a demonstration of exactly that he lowered his mouth, the searing hot slide of his lips demanding the capitulation of hers, and slowly Carrie’s body relaxed, surrendering to the compelling pressure of his mouth, the hot and hungry sweeps of his tongue. And as she rose to her tiptoes to kiss him back with an equal fervour, feeding the hunger pounding through his blood, Damon caught her around the waist, lifted her off the floor in a single swoop and set her on the marble top of the island, trapping himself between her legs and holding her tight against him.
With impatient yet deft fingers he worked apart the rest of the buttons on the shirt and then pushed the sides open, so all of her was bared to him. He palmed her breasts as he continued his assault on her lips, before dragging his mouth down her neck into a fiery exploration of her chest. Curling his tongue around her nipple, Damon sucked until she cried out, and he would have kept up the pressure—except Carrie was reaching for him, placing her hands on either side of his face and pulling his mouth back up to hers, coaxing his tongue back inside her mouth.
As they kissed with a fiery rhythm, and Carrie’s desire manifested itself in moans into his mouth, Damon’s own fever began to throb more insistently, even though he would have thought it impossible for him to want her more than he already did, to want her all over again when he’d spent hours already tasting and touching her in bed.
