His Final Seduction Page 5

  “It’s nothing important.”

  “Are you sure about that?” He tilted her face toward him, and their eyes found each other and held. “Sometimes you look at me as if you want to devour me, but when I notice, you hide the reaction as if you’re embarrassed.”

  “I’m not embarrassed.” She dropped her gaze. “Just…afraid.”

  “Afraid of what I’ll do to you?”

  “No.” She lifted her eyes to meet his. “Afraid of what I’ll do to myself.”

  Afraid of what she’d do to herself?

  Damien stared at her, unsure how to respond. He’d been ready to reassure her, lie to her, tell her he wouldn’t hurt her, but he had no comeback for what she’d just exposed. Wanting—no, needing—to know more, he pushed to his knees and moved closer to her.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Please, Damien.” She placed her palms flat against his chest and pushed. “I can’t do this.”

  He palmed her cheek, eased her face toward him again. A primal instinct roared in his soul. He wanted—no, needed—her to answer, to give him even the slightest hint of trust, freely and willing, without any of his manipulation, but he didn’t deserve the gift. So he let it go.

  “Okay.” He kissed her forehead, both cheeks, then her nose. He was stalling, but touching her was quickly becoming an addiction. An addiction that could get him killed.

  Forcing himself away from the temptation of her soft skin, he sat back, handed her a menu. “There are some wonderful things on the menu tonight. What’s your fancy?”

  She perused the menu for a moment before commenting on the items. “Everything here seems like hors d’oeuvres.”

  “They are.” She’d picked up on that little detail faster than he thought she would. “There’s nothing on the menu that requires any silverware. We feed each other.”

  “Really?” Shock didn’t seem to outweigh anticipation this time, and she tucked the menu against her and smiled at him. “I’ve always wanted to try blowfish. I’ve heard that—”

  “No! You can’t have blowfish.” His voice rushed out in a series of harsh tones. He hadn’t intended to, but he didn’t want her exposed to the possibility the blowfish might be tainted with its own deadly toxins.

  “But—”

  “No blowfish, Sydney. It’s too dangerous.” He leveled her with an air that defied her to argue, and she didn’t.

  “Fair enough.” She put the menu away. “You choose then. I’m sure you know what’s good here and what’s not.”

  “All right.” With no hesitation, he flipped on the lamp and their waiter rushed over. Damien held the menu up and pointed at the Seduction Sampler.

  “Excellent choice, Mr. Blake,” the man commented then scurried away.

  Damien busied himself with the mundane task of putting the menus away. He shouldn’t have snapped at Sydney, but the urge to keep her safe had taken him by surprise. For the past year, he’d been a bastard who seduced women to repay a debt. He no longer dealt in tenderness, kindness…touching just because of an inner attraction. At least, he hadn’t felt that way until the little surge of protectiveness reared back and bit him in the ass.

  Sydney had remained silent since they’d placed their order, so to be on the safe side, he decided to hit her with an extra dose of his spell. Nothing huge, just a small push to keep her loose, a little lust to counterbalance whatever emotions were creeping into her system.

  “Here, have another drink.” Taking her glass, he let his fingertips swirl over her hand. Almost instantly her shoulders dropped a little, as if the tension had drained from her body. “Tell me about yourself, Sydney?”

  “Nothing much to tell,” she answered.

  A tantalizing smile on her face, she reached past the glass of champagne and molded her hand over his abs, traced the rise and fall of muscle. Either he’d given her a bigger shot than he’d intended or she wasn’t as resistant as she made herself out to be. Either way, this evening was about to get fun.

  “I’m an attorney at the public defender’s office in Ft. Smith, Arkansas. I’ve been there about a year.”

  He set their drinks on the headboard then took her hand. Her fingers laced instantly with his, and he brought her hand to his mouth, pressed his lips against the back of her hand, the inside of her wrist.

  “People come from all around the world for a week of play at Club Carnal, so I’ve gotten very good at discerning accents over the years. And you, Sydney James, don’t sound like you’re from Arkansas. I hear some California in there too, but that doesn’t seem right either.”

  She laughed. “That’s because I spent years trying to suppress my Arkansan accent. While I was working on my undergrad in LA, I discovered that a lot of people made snap judgments about me because of my southern drawl. They equated being from the south with being stupid. I just never quite managed to get all the twang out before…I had to leave.”

  Her eyes held a dark memory, a memory he told himself he didn’t want to know about, but still, his mouth asked the question.

  “Had to leave?” The fingertips of his opposite hand skimmed her inner thighs.

  “I don’t want to talk about it, Damien. In fact…” Her legs widened, the invitation to touch obvious. “I don’t want to talk at all.”

  He shifted his hand up, cupped the damp vault between her legs, and she moaned, arching her back and pressing harder against his hand. Fuck, she was already very wet and very ripe. Blood rushed to his cock, engorging him to the point of near-pain.

  He tugged the sleeve of her dress and the strap fell away, exposing her left breast. Her nipple hardened instantly and, as if magnetically drawn, his mouth sought out the rigid peak. He ran his tongue over the pebbled dimples, and his hand pressed harder against the softness of her thong, squeezing and pressing against her pussy in a way sure to have her desperate for real contact in a matter of seconds.

  If not less.

  When she whimpered, he sucked her nipple into his mouth, biting the sensitive peak and making her jump, wrenching a short-burst scream from her lips.

  “Damien…”

  Their waiter returned and placed a tray of food on the headboard. Sydney grabbed a chocolate-covered strawberry from the plate and brought it to his lips. He opened his mouth, bit into the sweet fruit, but he couldn’t really taste it.

  The wild look in her eyes sent a jolt of electricity straight to his groin, and he took the berry from her. “Your turn,” he murmured.

  Her plump lips parted in anticipation. With slow, sensual swipes, he teased the exposed section of the fruit over her lips until she grabbed his hand, held the berry still. White teeth bit into the strawberry’s red flesh. Thick, succulent juices slithered past her lips, oozed over her chin, and slid down her neck.

  The pure pleasure of her expression unearthed the single most erotic event he’d ever experienced, and a primitive need to possess her had him leaning closer and lapping at the sweet fluid like a lovesick puppy.

  Chapter Four

  Sydney buried her fingers in Damien’s hair, or tried to anyway, but the elastic band holding the strands tight made it impossible. She tugged the stretchy ring until his hair spilled forward. His long locks smelled of the sea. Mmm, she would never be able to inhale ocean air again without getting seriously turned on.

  She was in some massive trouble here.

  Sometime in the past hour her reservations had melted into desire, and the surging emotions acted like kerosene on her burning need to possess this man, to be possessed by this man.

  “Sydney…” He tugged on her earlobe with his teeth then drew the dangling lobe between his lips. “Do you trust me?”

  His tempting words, his hot breath against her already sensitive skin twined together, causing her body to go limp with surrender. “Yes.”

  “Will you willingly give your body to me?”

  Her eyes finding his, she fell into the depthless pools, and for a moment, an elusive warmth flittered in the dark h
ues. Then it was gone, and she let it go.

  “I will.”

  He pulled back, came to a kneeling position on the bed. “Take off your dress.”

  A shiver caressed her skin. Even if she had the ability to conceive rational thought at the moment, she wouldn’t have said no to him. Couldn’t have said no to him.

  She pushed to her knees and popped the top button of her dress, then the next. That was all it took to send the sheer fabric slithering from her shoulders and pooling around her knees.

  “You have beautiful breasts.” Damien feathered his palms over her stomach, moving slowly to cup her breasts. He kneaded the mounds with impatient fingers.

  Beyond thought, she covered his hands with hers and increased the pressure. Her skin goosefleshed, and she focused all her energy on the friction his skin created against her nipples.

  “Harder,” she murmured. “Squeeze them harder.”

  Obeying her wanton command, his hands bit into her flesh and eased only when he’d wrenched a loud cry from her lips. He wrapped his right arm around her and bent her backwards. His mouth replaced the near-bruising massage, and he drew a throbbing peak into his mouth, biting down in a series of pleasure-evoking bites and nips.

  She smashed his head to her breast, encouraging him to suck stronger, bite harder. Her other hand slid down the defined muscles of his abdomen until she cupped his balls. His shudder vibrated through her, and she manipulated the orbs with gentle movements until his breathing was as ragged as hers. Only then did she slide her hand up to stroke his impressive erection.

  “Not yet,” he groaned, shifting his hips away from her hand.

  “Why not?” She grasped his cock firmly, daring him to deny her again.

  “Because as my guest, your pleasure comes first.” He lowered her toward the mattress. “And I plan on pleasuring every inch of your beautiful body.”

  Visions of his mouth on her throbbing core had her leaning back without question. Pressing her knees wide, he settled between her splayed legs. His fingertips grazed up and down her inner thighs in a move that drove her mad with anticipation.

  Her breath caught around her pounding heart. “Damien…” She fisted the silk sheets into her hands. “Fucking touch me already.”

  “I am touching you.” The smile that settled over his face belonged on a jungle predator.

  “You know what I mean. No more games.”

  “Oh, you mean you want me to touch you like this.”

  He skimmed the pads of his fingers over the material hiding her clit. The teasing pressure let loose a flickering burst of pleasure, and she drew her bottom lip between her teeth. And moaned.

  “Just wait…” The ability to form complete thoughts and sentences slowly leaked from her brain. “…get what you give.”

  “I hope that’s a promise, Sydney.”

  He hooked a finger around the section of her panties covering her sex, pulled them into a line of stretched silk, then flossed it against her throbbing clit in slow, steady shifts back and forth.

  “I meant it…more as a threat,” she gasped, the first tendrils of climax flitting across her belly. Her pussy muscles clenched, her channel flooding with fluid.

  “Is that a fact?”

  With a quick flip of his hands, his knuckle bumped and sawed against her wet opening, and he continued to rub her, touching her but not really touching her. The painful pleasure was exactly what her body had craved—and been denied—for the past year, but God help her, she still wanted more.

  She released her death grip on the sheets, brought her hands to her breasts, and pinched her nipples until they stood erect. Someone needed to take some initiative here. “Damien, I swear if you don’t touch my—ah…”

  Tugging her panties to the side, he slipped two long fingers inside her pussy and skimmed the edges of her damp vault before stroking deep, searching, extracting a nuclear sensation from her body. Her inner muscles clenched around his invading fingers, and she squeezed her nipples harder, hoping for the extra jolt that would send her over the edge, but Damien withdrew his fingers.

  He swirled his fingertips over her labia and clit, coating her with her own juices. She pushed her knees wider, inviting him to take more, pleading with him to give more. And he did. Sliding deep inside her again, he added another finger to his wonderful torment. The pressure of three digits pushed the level of pressure inside her to near bursting.

  He pumped her closer and closer to the edge, sliding in and out of her channel with a maddening fury. Then he flipped his hand around completely. His thumb eased along her perineum, found her puckered asshole, and pressed gently against it in a rhythm matching his thrusts.

  She tightened on instinct, unsure what he wanted to do with that thumb. As if sensing her unease, he flipped his hand again. The pleasure-filled vibrations that spin created moved through her body like ripples on a pond.

  How is he doing that?

  “Shit. Damien. Fuck.”

  “I love the way you say fuck. The way your brow creases when I touch you. How you moan my name.”

  The deep, silky timbre of his voice slid along her skin. She lifted her head, forced her eyes to lock onto his as he lowered his body toward the mattress, his mouth toward the spot where his fingers thrust inside her. Anticipation seized control of her lungs.

  The tip of his tongue made contact with her bulging clit, but their gazes never strayed…

  With soft, shallow licks, the wet muscle traced along the engorged bundle then he drew one side of her labia into his hot mouth.

  Falling back against the mattress, she gripped his hair and arched her hips to increase the intimate contact. How had she gone without this the past year?

  Damien returned his attention to her clit and sucked the swollen bud into his mouth, alternating pressure from his tongue and little nips from his teeth, his fingers continuing to stroke deep inside her pussy in a series of firm pulses. This man certainly knew what he was doing. Every move, every touch, every stroke seemed calculated.

  The pressure inside her core expanded with each of his manipulations like a cave being stuffed with dynamite, and she hoped the imminent explosion wouldn’t kill her.

  “Now, Sydney,” he commanded.

  His words detonated her climax.

  “DAMIEN!”

  Her legs clamped around his neck and pressed his face into her trembling center. He suckled the sensitive bundle in a frenzy as if refusing to release her orgasm. Wave after wave threatened to drown her, and her back bowed against the onslaught. His fingers dug into her thighs, keeping her legs open, cresting her climax higher and higher.

  He held her body suspended in bliss, and time and reality disappeared. Spidery sensations crept through her body, weaving a wanton web of molten desire. Desperate hands fisted the soft sheets, and her body undulated a harmony she’d never felt, never experienced.

  Eventually, slowly, the inferno he’d created inside her body cooled to a smoldering simmer, and she collapsed—limp and boneless—against the mattress, her eyes rolling back into her head. She wasn’t used to this kind of blazing passion anymore. Anymore? Come to think of it, even when she’d sliced through lovers like a hot knife through a stick of room-temperature butter, the afterglow had never felt like she’d been flipped inside out. Heaven knows her sporadic self-pleasuring sessions were no competition for Damien’s knowledgeable mastering.

  Damien’s weight shifted, but she didn’t have the energy to open her eyes and find out what he was doing. “Damien…?”

  “You didn’t think I was finished with you, did you?”

  Curiosity spurred her into a semi-sitting position. She watched in carnal fascination as he lowered his head back to her pussy, kissed her fully. His hands slipped under her ass, slid around her outer hip, and came to rest at her mons.

  “I’m just getting started, Sydney.”

  Gentle fingertips eased open her still-sensitive folds, and his face disappeared behind a veil of hair and into her wet c
urls. He was careful to avoid any direct contact with her clit, which was a good thing. Even his near touch was almost painful. Almost…

  She brushed the hair from his face and watched him eat her. His eyes closed, the look on his face as erotic as what he was doing to her, which was the biggest turn-on for her.

  Grinning, she grabbed a pillow and shoved it behind her head, settling in as Damien’s lazy licks glided around and into the creases of her labia. After several tantalizing minutes there, they descended to her opening, and he kissed her in a series of hot, openmouthed kisses.

  Pleasure built anew in her stomach, and her knees drifted wider, too weak to stay up. He could really teach a class on this, but she tried not to dwell on how he’d gotten this good. Right now, he was hers.

  Or was she his?

  “When’s it my turn to have a little fun with your body?” she murmured.

  “This isn’t fun?”

  He plunged his tongue inside her dripping chamber, and she started to fall again.

  Sydney was an anomaly.

  Smiling against her moist heat, her muscles started their rhythmic response to his manipulations. Where was the resistant woman he’d walked into the restaurant with? There was no way the writhing vixen in his arms was the same person.

  No, this woman was sure of her sexuality, confident, and knew exactly what she wanted. And took it. To see her playing with her tits while he sampled her, to allow her to lead where her body begged, was the sexiest thing he’d ever experienced. How could a woman so free, so liberal with her pleasure, lock that part of herself away?

  Whatever the reason, it was a shame to hide away all her untapped lust.

  “Seriously, Damien, it’s your turn.” She grabbed a handful of his hair and yanked hard. He had no choice but to move, even if he didn’t go willingly.

  “I considered that my turn.” He pressed a few more lingering kisses to her cunt then tugged her panties back into place. His lips glided over her skin as he pushed his body up the length of hers, taking a selfish detour at her breasts, nibbling a bit on her tasty nipples.