She let her tongue surge in, rubbing against his. Never before had she been so brazen, so bold, but then she hadn’t ever wanted anyone the way she did Damon.
They kissed, his tongue playing along hers, making her heart beat in a rapid rhythm. Alive. Maybe it was a farce on his part, but it was real for her, and she couldn’t let it rush by without reveling in it. Without saying yes to it.
“Let me take over,” Damon whispered, his deep voice pure seduction. “I can make it so good for you. We could be good together. So fucking good. Touch me. Touch my cock. Stroke me.”
She wanted to see it again, loved looking at him. One last kiss on his lips and she forced herself up.
“Damn it.”
She ignored him and pulled at the sheet, tugging it down. He hissed a little as his cock was exposed, but she couldn’t miss the satisfied smile on his face. He pressed his hips up, squirming a bit, like she had in the bathroom at her cousin’s wedding. Her first real orgasm. He’d given that to her. Didn’t she owe him something?
A gasp came out of her mouth as she really caught sight of his cock for the first time. Never before had she had the time to look at her lover. Peter had wanted the lights off and to get it done fairly quickly, but Damon seemed to want to take his time, to revel in it, to treat it like a leisure activity he never wanted to finish up.
His cock was a thing of beauty. Long and thick. There was a drop of pearly liquid seeping from the tiny slit on the tip of his dick. His hips were lean, with lovely notches that proved just how much he liked to work out.
“Do you like what you see?” His voice was low, a hard groan coming out of his mouth.
“You know how beautiful you are.” He had to. She was sure a thousand women had told him.
His hand came out, touching a place just below his heart. “I know I’m scarred.”
There was a red puckered place right below his heart, to the left of his breast bone. It was a nasty scar, the one that might still cost him his career. That mark was the reason he couldn’t run the way he used to, couldn’t perform in the field. He should have had a few more years, but the injury had aged him.
It hadn’t made him any less desirable. His flaws did nothing but make him more open, easier to get close to. She forced herself to look away from his cock. It was beautiful, but he was more than a hot cock. He was a man who’d been hurt, who had the same strengths and weaknesses as everyone else, who needed more than just sex even if he wouldn’t admit it.
She ran her fingers across his scar. He’d almost died. She couldn’t imagine what he’d gone through. His best mate had walked in and calmly put a bullet in him. He’d been forced to endure months and months of trying to get back to normal. Everything that made up Damon Knight had been put in jeopardy. She couldn’t help but think about the picture in his office. That smiling boy and parents who loved him. He’d lost them so young. He’d been alone in the world. Only a child, but orphaned.
When her mother had died, she’d felt her aloneness and she’d been an adult. Her entire body had ached with the loss, but he’d been truly alone, a child with no one to care for him.
Then he’d opened up and his best mate had betrayed him brutally, the evidence right beneath her fingers.
Damon needed to be healed. Not from his physical ailments, but from the wounds that came from the ones he loved always leaving him.
She leaned over and pressed her lips to his scar. There was a line that moved in and out of the circle. His surgery. Someone had saved his life. Someone had pulled the bullet out of him so he could be with her right now, in this moment.
Her tongue came out to trace the scar. That scar was important. It meant he was alive. It meant he was here.
His hand sank into her hair. He held her hard against his skin. “God, keep your mouth on me. Penelope, I need it. I know you don’t believe me, but I want you. I want everything you have to give me.”
Though it was so dumb, she licked the scar, trailing over to his nipple and then giving him a baby bite.
Damon hissed and the hand in her hair tightened. “Yes, that’s what I want. I want Penelope Cash’s bad girl. I want her to fuck my cock. I want her to crave me.”
She already craved him. Bad girl. Good girl. Everything Penelope Cash was wanted Damon Knight.
He was laid out for her, his big body a feast for her senses. He released his hold on her hair, giving her some freedom to explore. She let her palms roam across his chest as she kissed her way down. He’d given her something the day before. He’d taught her that she wasn’t cold or frigid, that sex could be good with the right partner. She wanted to return the favor.
There were a million reasons why it was a bad idea and only one reason to keep going—because she wanted to. In the moment, that was all that mattered.
“I’m trying to be very good,” Damon said, his hands clutching the sheets. “It’s difficult for me not to take over. So give me something. Take off that ridiculous shirt and let me see your breasts. I won’t let you hide from me.”
He’d touched her and played with her, but he hadn’t seen her yet.
“Don’t,” he growled. “Don’t tense up on me. I want to see you.”
“I don’t look like you, Damon.” She was overweight, a bit saggy. He was masculine perfection, and she wasn’t anywhere close to him.
“Thank god for that. I don’t want you to look like me. I’m not into men.”
So frustrating. “That wasn’t what I meant.”
His eyes narrowed. “Then perhaps you should tell me what you meant.”
She had the sudden fear that he wouldn’t like her explaining all the ways she didn’t measure up. He hadn’t liked other people talking bad about her. He wouldn’t like her talking about herself in a derogatory fashion either. And he seemed to be looking for a reason to punish her. There was only one clear way out of the situation.
She sat up, making her decision. Before she could really think about it, she pulled the shirt over her head and let it fall to the bed beside her. She wasn’t wearing underwear since he hadn’t seen fit to provide her with any. Penny sat, kneeling over him, waiting for him to say something.
A slow smile curled his lips up, making him look like a lazy pasha whose meal had been brought to him on a silver platter. “What made you change your mind?”
She bit her bottom lip and decided to tell him the truth. This relationship they were pretending to have was all about trust and honesty. “Well, I decided that if I told you what was going through my head, you would very likely get angry with me. You would have spanked me and then still ordered me to undress, so the argument wouldn’t have gotten me anything but a sore bum. I decided to skip it and do as you asked.”
Pure pleasure was in his grin. “Such a smart girl. We’ll get along well, you and I. And, god, your tits are gorgeous. Look at that. Spread your legs. Let me see your pussy.”
She could see he wasn’t going to be easy to please. He would demand everything from her, but he’d done nothing to make her think he would hurt her. He’d only given her pleasure in moments like these, only praised her. She shifted, moving her knees apart so he could see her.
“Do you always shave?” His voice had gotten deeper, darker.
She shook her head. “No. It’s my first time. I did it on Saturday night.”
“After you said yes to me.” He turned on his side, obviously comfortable with his nudity. “Did you think about me when you were shaving?”
More honesty. “Yes.”
“Did you want to please me? Did you shave your pussy thinking it would please your Master?”
She’d done it for several reasons. “I read that many submissives keep to a grooming routine. And yes, I did think about you while I was doing it. I wanted to know what it felt like. I don’t pay much attention to that part of my body.”