His Final Seduction Page 4

  After what seemed like a ten-minute orgasm, sanity slithered back into place with a molasses crawl, and Damien lifted her into his arms. Focusing through the thick haze in her brain, she determined his probable destination.

  The bed. Oh, crap.

  Her better judgment finally decided to return from break, and she shook her head. She needed to put a stop to this insanity. She’d known this man all of ten minutes. Diving deeper into her pool of reason than she’d ever gone before, she whispered, “W-what time is dinner?”

  “Excuse me?” Damien’s smoldering dark eyes snapped to hers, as though shocked she’d spoken.

  “I’m starving. I haven’t eaten anything since I left the Little Rock airport.”

  “You want to eat now?”

  His gaze sharpened and she nodded quickly, afraid her voice would contradict her words. Food was the last thing she was hungry for right now, but she was finished letting her hormones dictate her actions.

  “We can leave as soon as you’re dressed.” Slowly, he lowered her until her feet touched the ground. “I’ll call and reserve us a table.”

  “Th-thanks.” She took an unsteady step backwards then turned for the bathroom.

  “You forgot something.”

  Yeah, my sanity.

  Reluctantly, she turned and got a spectacular view of Damien’s ass when he bent to pick up the package from the floor. His linen pants stretched so tight, the lines of his underwear became visible. What would it be like to see him wearing only that hidden garment?

  “Just say the word, and you can, Sydney.”

  “Excuse me?” Had she said that out loud?

  “Nothing.” He stood and, grinning like he held in a secret, handed her the box for the second time. “How long do you need to get dressed?”

  She did a quick calculation. Shower, shave, hair, makeup, clothes. “Maybe forty minutes.”

  “All right.” He turned on his heel and headed toward the wet bar in the corner. “I’ll be waiting,” he called over his shoulder.

  Confused by the faster-than-the-speed-of-light events, she hurried into the bathroom, locked the door, then immediately collapsed. Breathe, Syd. You gotta breathe. You can fight this. You’re not a slave to your hormones anymore.

  But the heady buzz coursing through her body begged to differ.

  Up until ultra, out-of-this-world sexy Damien walked into her life, she’d actually started to believe she’d gained control over her destiny, but now…

  She shook her head. If the past fifteen minutes had proven anything, she had no more control over her body than she’d had when it had destroyed her life.

  hhh

  She’d resisted him. No woman had been able to resist his charm since he’d signed the contract with Giselle. No one but Sydney.

  Interesting…

  Damien took a long pull of his coconut rum. She’d been deep under his spell, but somehow she’d managed to pull away. Maybe, since he was nearing the end of his contract, his powers were tapering off. Or was he just off today? Finding out he needed to become a murderer to gain his freedom—as ironic as that was—wasn’t exactly easy on the old stomach lining.

  The bathroom doorknob jiggled, drawing his attention, but the door didn’t open.

  “Everything okay in there?” he called out.

  Sydney’s soft, insecure voice echoed from behind the door. “I can’t wear this. I feel naked.”

  “Let me see,” he commanded, setting his drink on the table next to him.

  The door crept open and, with her arms across her chest, Sydney stepped into the room like the new kid at school—embarrassed and out of place. She needn’t have worried, because…wow.

  He’d been wrong about his earlier assessment of her body. Beneath her long pants and baggy shirt, she had a spectacular physique, and the navel-reaching drape-neck dress accentuated every sensual angle of her figure.

  The soft pale-green organza he’d picked out for her complemented her creamy skin, and the dipping neckline showed off a tantalizing amount of skin. From beneath the sheer fabric, a hint of flesh and rosy nipples stirred the blood in his cock.

  “Turn around,” he growled, his teeth grinding against each other. “I want to see the back.”

  She obeyed, and fuck if the back wasn’t just as impressive as the front. The thin fabric fastened together in three precarious positions along the dip of her spine and showed off her back and a hint of the dress’s matching thong. The view he’d get of that scrumptious ass as she walked—hips swaying, thighs working—would likely make him lose control…something he hadn’t done in longer than he could remember.

  “Like I said.” She wrung her hands together as she turned, unable to meet his stare. “I feel naked.”

  “What you should feel is sexy…powerful.” He crossed the room in a few hunger-driven steps. With his index finger, he tilted Sydney’s face up. “There’s not going to be a man here who won’t be tripping over himself just to get one glimpse of these beautiful curves.” He took her hand in his then pressed her open palm against his hard cock. “Including me.”

  Her lashes fluttered but her green eyes stayed glued to his. “And that’s why I have to change.”

  “I don’t think so.” In a fierce move, he grabbed her bare arms and yanked her against him. “You’re not changing.”

  “But—”

  “Shh.” His dipped his head and traced his tongue along the engorged artery in her neck. He followed the hot licks with gentle nips, releasing his incubus spell, letting it slowly creep under her skin, blocking her hesitation, softening her inhibitions. He certainly had his work cut out for him.

  But he wasn’t sure if that was good or dangerously tragic.

  Her grip loosened instantly and a muffled moan escaped her lips. Her small hands grasped the open edges of his shirt, and he eased her low neckline away until her full breasts hung free.

  “I don’t even know you.” She shook her head without an ounce of conviction, her palms flattening against his chest.

  “But you will,” he promised, pinching her nipples until they hardened and begged for his mouth to soothe away the ache. “Come on, Sydney. We can continue this at dinner.”

  Her eyes widened. “What do you mean at dinner?”

  Chapter Three

  “Oh my God!” Sydney’s hands flew to her mouth. “The waitresses aren’t wearing clothes.”

  “Not true.” Damien’s hand slid over her waist and he pulled her closer. “They’re wearing aprons.”

  Sydney snorted. “If you call that little scrap of material an apron.”

  She stared wide-eyed as a size-DD waitress walked by carrying a tray of drinks and exposing her breasts for the world to admire. Tied around her waist, an apron the size of a washrag didn’t leave much to the imagination. However, as the waitress passed, Sydney did wonder if the woman was wearing a G-string or bare flesh beneath the red scraps. “I can’t help but stare.”

  “That’s the idea.” Damien chuckled, his lips and steamy breath teasing her ear as he whispered, “Wait till you see the waiters.”

  She cocked her brow, intrigued despite her better judgment.

  A young blond woman strolled over, and Sydney couldn’t decide which was perkier…her smile or her nipples.

  “Good evening, Mr. Blake.” She tossed long hair behind her shoulder. “Your reservation in the bedroom is ready.”

  Bedroom? Did she just say bedroom?

  Sydney opened her mouth to speak, but Damien’s hand dipped down and molded against her ass, stalling her rebuttal and sending another jolt of awareness into her body. How the hell does he do that?

  “I trust you used the lavender and vanilla linen spray I requested?” he asked. “And the rose-colored tint on the lampshades.”

  Linen spray? Rose-color tinted lampshades? She arched a questioning brow at Damien, but his eyes were focused on the playful greeter.

  “Of course.” The other woman winked at him and trailed a fingertip down his
defined chest. “I know just how you like your bedroom, sir.”

  “Thank you, Angie.”

  Damien turned to Sydney with a smile playing on his lips, as if he knew the unexpected emotions swirling around inside her mind. And the questions.

  “The bedroom is what we call the VIP area in the back.” He guided her into the restaurant, his fingertips playing along her exposed back. “It offers more privacy than the main area.”

  “Oh.” She sighed in relief. “I thought it was an actual—Holy shit.”

  The full sight of the restaurant all but shocked her stupid. Where tables should have been, loveseats and coffee tables holding an eclectic array of sensual foods like wine, oysters, truffles and strawberries sat at routine intervals throughout the area. On the loveseats, couples—and often a few more—sat, kneeled, lay and stood in varying stages of erotic foreplay. Sweat-slicked limbs pretzeled and formed heated silhouettes of lust. From thin to heavyset, every body shape seemed accepted here. Enjoyed. Used.

  To her left, a large bald man wearing a pair of white briefs knelt between the splayed legs of an exotically beautiful woman, his head moving vigorously as he pleasured her. The woman moaned without shame. When Sydney and Damien passed, the man lifted his head and caught Sydney’s gaze for a brief moment. Hunger burned in his eyes, and he licked his lips like a predator devouring his prey.

  Sydney immediately looked away only to see two men kneeling on their sofa, mouths and tongues dueling. Each man had his hand down his partner’s boxers, stroking semi-hidden erections in an increasing rhythm.

  On the couch next to them, two women vied for the attention of a handsome dark-skinned man, their breasts held high as an offering. The man tugged his cock free from his unzipped jeans. “Let’s see how well you ladies can play together.” He gripped a handful of hair in each hand and pushed the women toward his staff. One opened wide to swallow his head while the other licked and worked his sac.

  Sydney clamped her eyes shut and pressed her face against Damien’s chest, gripping the open flaps of his shirt and using them as a shield from her surroundings. Shock was slipping into arousal. She needed to get out of here. And fast.

  “I’m sorry, Damien, but this is just too much for me. I really think I’d better go back to my room and—”

  “Had you not read about our restaurants? You don’t know the intimacies Carnal Cravings offers?”

  “Carnal Cravings?” Her jaw dropped. “I didn’t even know what kind of club this was until an hour ago. My friends booked this vacation, and all they told me was that I’d have the time of my life.” She shook her head and stepped away from Damien’s stimulating embrace.

  “No. Stay with me.” His eyes pleaded with her, and he cupped her face between big hands. “I promise you won’t be disappointed.”

  She worried her bottom lip between her teeth. “I don’t know…”

  “Trust me.”

  His simple plea tore at her heart, and he pressed a kiss on her forehead. A tender warmth radiated from the spot where his lips touched her skin, spreading through her body like a virus, and her determination dissolved along with rational thought.

  She ran her palms over his chest, overwhelmed by the sudden need to connect with this man. “For a little while.”

  “Thank you.” He sounded almost relieved as he wrapped an arm around her waist. “Now, let’s go have a little fun.”

  hhh

  Sydney James was certainly proving to be a woman of mystery. Just when he thought he had her figured out, she’d zig when he expected her to zag, and learning her friends had booked this vacation for her was another zig. She’d not expected a vacation where sex and pleasure were celebrated and practiced openly. How would she react when she saw their, uh…table?

  The thought bred a heady dose of excitement he’d not experienced since…hell, he couldn’t remember. Dismissing the thought, he pulled back the curtains separating the bedroom from the rest of the restaurant.

  Spaced throughout the room, fifteen round beds dominated the space. Above each bed, a sheer canopy fluttered to the ground and partially hid the bed’s occupants in a shadowy veil.

  He pointed to the extra-large bed in the far corner, canopy tied up and awaiting their arrival. A waiter and waitress stood on either side of the headboard, ready to tend to their every need. Mostly every need anyway.

  “That one’s ours,” he murmured, enjoying the softness of her skin beneath his hand.

  “We’re going to have dinner on a bed? I really thought you were kidding.”

  “Tables hinder sensuality, Sydney.” Taking her hand, he led her through the semi-darkness. “I designed this restaurant to bring out the sensuality of the eating experience and to pique an arousal that will carry on throughout the night to other rooms in the club, but we do have two rules at Carnal Cravings that are strictly enforced.”

  “I’m afraid to ask,” she mumbled, crawling onto the bed.

  “Patrons can only undress down to their underwear, although the garment can be pushed and manipulated as desired. And under no circumstances will intercourse be allowed in the restaurant, only stimulation.”

  “Thank God for small favors.”

  Sarcasm laced her voice, and her quick wit made him smile.

  “We have to maintain some semblance of decorum.”

  Her brow lifted. “Of course.”

  “Everything is ready, Mr. Blake,” one of his new waiters informed him. “If you’d like your clothes hung up, I’ll be more than happy to take care of it for you.”

  Damien shrugged out of his shirt and pants then handed them to the waiter, and Sydney’s eyes nearly jutted from their sockets.

  Ohhhh…looks like I’ve just gotten my wish.

  He crawled onto the bed, and she couldn’t help but stare at all those unclad, flexing muscles. His extra-skin black briefs provided a not-so-subtle hint of just how nice a package they covered, and God help her, she was dying to get her hands and mouth on his cock. She swiped the back of her hand over her chin, afraid she might actually be drooling.

  The waiter spoke again and drew her attention. “Is there anything I can take from you, ma’am?”

  Take? She gave her nearly transparent outfit the once-over, assessing her options. “What the hell.” She kicked off her shoes and handed them over.

  “Thank you. I shall leave you to your privacy.” The waiter bowed then glanced at Sydney. “Call if you need anything.”

  When the waiter turned, Sydney was surprised—although given her current surroundings, she didn’t know why—to see fishnet material covering his ass, not the black leather the front pouch was made of. She continued staring until the canopy fell shut.

  At the head of the bed, the one area the shade didn’t cover, their waitress said, “Your menus are in these drawers.” She indicated a drawer next to Damien, then the matching one next to Sydney. “And to my right, this drawer has been stocked with items to make your dining experience more enjoyable. The sample lubrications, massage oils, and things of that nature are yours to keep, but we ask that the other devices remain after you leave.”

  “Other devices?” The words shot out of Sydney’s mouth before she could stop them.

  The waitress ticked off items on her fingers as she spoke. “Vibrators. Handcuffs. Scarves.”

  Sydney waved her off. “I get the point.” All too clearly.

  The woman plastered a brilliant smile on her poufy lips and touched the shade of a small lamp. “Whenever you’re ready to order, just flip on this lamp. Until then, I’ll leave you be.”

  Sydney watched the other woman walk over to a bed cattycorner from theirs, where a topless couple were enjoying some dessert. The man retrieved a syringe-looking object from the headboard and squirted its content on each of his companion’s nipples. Smearing the dark cream around with his tongue, he suckled at the woman’s breast like a starving infant.

  Despite her earlier unease, Sydney found it very hard not to watch. A year ago, she would h
ave used and abused every person, every lusty inch of this island on a personal quest for gratification. Between sex, drinking, and parties, how she’d ever made it through law school was a mystery.

  “You still look tense.” Damien’s gentle cadence feathered over her. ”But I think I know something that’ll help.” He grabbed the open champagne bottle from the headboard and one of the two glass flutes. Swirling the bottle beneath his nose, he inhaled deeply. “Mm-mm. Perrier Jouet Fleur Blanc de Blanc 1999.”

  He filled her glass three-fourths full then poured his own. Mimicking his earlier motion, she breathed in the champagne’s effervescent aroma. The sparkling fluid tickled her senses. “It smells like ripe berries and some sort of spice.”

  “Very good,” he purred, raising his glass to her. “May this be the first of many drinks shared.”

  Unable to keep her smile at bay, she pinged her glass against his then took a sip. The sweet liquid danced over her tongue. She enjoyed the bite of the bubbly aftertaste as it teased her taste buds. “Wonderful.”

  “I found this little treasure quite by accident on my last trip to France.”

  So Mr. Sexy was a traveler as well as a club owner. Interesting twist. She tucked her legs beneath her. “I went to Paris the summer after I graduated from law school. Man, I had one hell of a trip, but I—”

  Stopping suddenly, she averted her eyes. Talking about the woman she used to be was something she tried to avoid, even with her closest friends. Now here she was, about to reveal an aspect of her personality she didn’t like to talk about, and she was going to tell all to a man she wanted to fall off the wagon for…it had to be the heat.

  “But what, Sydney?”

  “Nothing,” she lied.

  “I sense you’re afraid of something, Sydney.” He fingered the thin swath of material on her shoulders. “Tell me what’s got you so turned upside down.”

  “Aside from sitting on a bed with a mostly naked man in a restaurant at a sex club?”

  “Ah, yes, aside from that.” He propped his left elbow against the mattress and his hand against the side of his head.