“Alannah, what are—”
I brought my mouth down on top of his and took what I’d wanted since the first moment I saw him. I lifted my hands, thrusted them into his hair, and almost dropped to my knees with desire. His hair was thick and soft—so freaking soft. I tangled my fingers around the strands and tugged.
“You’re playing a dangerous game with me, Lana,” Damien said against my lips, his voice husky. “I’d walk away if I were you.”
Boldness surged through me.
“That sounds like a challenge to me.”
“Talking.” Damien groaned into my mouth. “We’re supposed to be talking.”
“We are,” I replied, sliding my tongue over his lower lip. “We’re talkin’ with our bodies.”
Ursula from The Little Mermaid did say never to underestimate the importance of body language, and at that moment, I had never related to a Disney quote more in my entire life.
Damien broke our heated kiss and stared up at me, his expression one of shock. It was quickly replaced by one so full of heat and longing that by the time he drew me against him, I was trembling with anticipation.
“I want you so much,” he breathed. “God knows I’ve dreamed of touching you, kissing you, tasting you.”
I had to lock my knees together to keep from falling to them.
“What will you do to me if I let you touch me?” I asked, my voice thick with desire. “I need to hear it.”
“I’d kiss you. Nice and slow until my lips are all you know. My hands would explore every inch of you until you only knew my touch. I’d love you so good, the feel of me would be imbedded into you for life. I’d make your body mine.”
“Yes,” I whimpered. “Please, I want that.”
More than my next breath.
Damien pulled me against him and covered his mouth with mine. He growled against my lips before he stood. Hooking his hands around the back of my thighs, he picked me up as he moved. I gasped into his mouth, latching my arms around his neck and wrapping my legs around his waist.
“I love how tall you are,” I panted, pulling back to gaze at him. “It makes me feel tiny.”
“You are tiny,” Damien said, pushing my dress up with one hand so he could palm my behind.
He touched his lips to mine once more, moulding them together as his tongue slid inside in a kiss so ravenous it caused my spine to arch, my heart to slam into my chest, and my skin to flush with pleasure. My thoughts were scattered with every thrust and slide of his tongue, licking against my own. Damien’s kiss was so consuming I didn’t know where I ended and he began.
“You’re so gorgeous,” I blurted against his lips. “And I love your hair. It’s so feckin’ pretty and soft. What conditioner do you use? Actually, never mind. I love your face. My God, do I love your face. Your dimples are stunnin’.”
I felt Damien’s laughter vibrate against my lips before he kissed down my jawline to my neck where he feathered kisses over my skin, causing goosebumps to break out over my body.
“You wouldn’t believe the things I’ve dreamed of doin’ to you and you doin’ to me,” I purred, hoping to God I sounded sultry.
Damien scraped his teeth over my sweet spot, and it caused my back to arch, which pushed my breasts against him. His hands on my behind squeezed me tightly.
“Why don’t you tell me in detail what you’ve dreamed of us doing?” he asked. “I need to hear that.”
“You used your m-mouth on me,” I stammered. “And when I thought that would kill me, you added your fingers and use them both to make me scream.”
Damien lightly bit my neck, encouraging me to continue.
“Your tongue.” I hummed. “You’d lick, and suck, and taste me all over until I was putty in your hands”
I sucked in a sharp breath when Damien suddenly turned and dislodged my arms and legs from around him as he pushed me from his body and onto the mattress with a bounce. He rid himself of his shirt with one tug, and watching that sent a shiver up my spine.
“You’re perfect,” I said, staring up at him. “Fuck, you’re perfect.”
His tanned skin seemed to glow in the lighting as strands of his white hair fell forward into his eyes. He lifted a hand to push them away, and the flex of his bicep had my insides clenching with need. His broad shoulders were begging for my teeth to sink into them, and the lines of his abdominal muscles taunted my fingers to run over them.
You have no idea what you’re doing to me.
“Perfect?” he repeated as he gripped the hem of my dress and pushed it up to my waist. “No, baby, that’d be you.”
Without a single word, he gripped the top of my dress, pulled the straps down my shoulders, and tugged the material down until my bare breasts were free. I didn’t wear a bra with my dress—I didn’t need to—and if Damien’s groan was anything to go by, he seemed to appreciate that. He left my dress bunched up at my waist and leaned back on his heels so he could roam his eyes over me.
“You’re stunning, Lana.”
My body hummed with delight as he slid his hands up my thighs, skimmed my stomach, and flattened them over my breasts. He cupped them, giving them a gentle squeeze before he ran his thumbs over the hardened, sensitive pink tips. The tingling sensation drew a slight moan from me as heat pooled between my legs, an incessant throb growing with each tantalising touch.
I felt my cheeks burn when his gaze locked on the centre of my thighs.
“Lace?” he questioned without looking at me.
“I like pretty u-underwear.”
“So do I.” Damien looked up at me with fire in his eyes. “Christ, I’ll never get this image of you out of my head.”
I didn’t want him to.
“What are you goin’ to do to me?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
He licked his lips. “What I’ve wanted to do to you from the first moment I saw you.”
“What’s that?”
I shrieked when he gripped the hem of my underwear and yanked them from my body. If the rustled sound of fabric tearing was anything to go by, I’d say he even ripped them in the process. I could barely breathe when my thighs were parted, and Damien brought his face down to my pussy. He inhaled deeply, and I knew mortification at that moment.
“Damien!” I cried and desperately tried to shut my legs, but he didn’t let me. “Why are you sniffin’ me? Oh, God! Do you have a weird fetish or somethin’?”
He chuckled but didn’t move a muscle other than when he stopped me from wriggling.
“No,” he mused. “I’m savouring how you smell because it’s damn good.”
If I ever spoke to him again after this, it would be too soon.
“This is indecent!” I stated, my entire face burning. “You can’t just … Damien!”
The first flick of his hot, wet tongue was unexpected, and oh so delicious.
“Holy Mary, Mother of God.”
“Pray to whoever you want, freckles. No one can save you from me now.”
With that said, he began to lick and suck on my pussy lips, then he used his tongue to part them. I felt myself go cross-eyed, and it was all I could do not to buck my hips in his face. His tongue slid up the trail of slick heat until he curled it around my clit and gifted me with a sensation I never knew existed.
I reached down with my hand, tangled my fingers in his hair, and held on for dear life.
He applied pressure as he swirled his tongue around the sensitive bud, and the action sucked the air out of me. It was too much sensation—too much of a new sensation—for my body to handle. I couldn’t lie still, so Damien hooked his arms around my thighs and applied heavy-handed pressure on them, which helped to keep me in place.
“Dame, Dame, Dame, Dame,” I panted as my breathing turned irregular. “Oh!”