His lips curled into a smile, and he took her hand within his, and a spark rushed up her arm. Her heart flipped in her chest when he lowered her hand over himself. There. On the part that was hard and enormously bulging against his dress pants. His hand pressed into hers, forcing her to cup him, his smile still lingering as he watched her with eyes that glimmered like onyxes.
Her fingers felt seared, and she almost squeaked on contact, but instead she opened her hand to engulf more of him, marveling at his rigidness. His size.
All those nights she’d wondered about him, wanted him, when she was so young, and now she was touching him. Her brain spun, feeling him under her hand, digging her palm slightly into him and watching his nostrils flare as he held her curious gaze.
“What do you know of caressing a man?” he asked, his expression becoming somber.
Her voice wavered. “Whatever you can tell me.”
He flicked open the button of his slacks, his fingers deft and tanned, and his smile completely faded until his face was all lust. All thoughts of sex.
“Slide your hand inside,” he rasped, parting his slacks so she could see his cotton briefs beneath. A hot knot of desire formed in her throat as she slipped her fingers into the waistband, the rest of her hand following.
Oh. My.
Her eyes blurred when she engulfed him—a very small part of him. He was burning hot inside his pants, and so hard, and so large, he overflowed her ridiculously. Her eyes widened, but his gaze had gone half-mast. He cupped her jaw almost tenderly, and bent his head.
He kissed her. His mouth was slow but strong, taking hers, opening hers. He grabbed her closer and groaned, pushing her against the wall, grinding his hardness into her palm.
She gasped from the force of his response. “It worked with you. Do you think it’s the right call?”
Panting, he shoved himself into her touch again, his face as she’d never seen it, raw with passion. “The only thing that will make that guy’s nuts react is if you kick them, Sydney.”
Her skin felt feverish for more of his kissing. “Please tell me, Damien.” “No,” he breathed, leaning his head to hers, breathing on her. “Don’t…touch…him…”
“Why?”
“You don’t want to touch him.”
“Why?”
“You touch a man’s cock when you want sex. You want love? You go for this.” He cupped the back of her head almost gently and covered her lips, his kiss deep and drugging.
The word “love” coming from his mouth shouldn’t have affected her, it really shouldn’t have, but hearing it in his deep manly voice sent a tremor down her spine.
She squeezed his erection in her hand and tried to fist him, and his answering growl reverberated in her core. He grabbed her hips and lifted her, and her legs automatically went around his hips, her arms flying to his shoulders as she tried to hold on with a startled squeak.
He pressed her into the wall and shoved his glorious hardness into her body, grinding it at the juncture of her thighs, pulling back to watch her reaction. Her clitoris responded and swelled and throbbed, and her hips rocked up to him.
“Damien,” she gasped, her frightened eyes clinging to his. “Does it always…feel so good, so intense…”
He did it again, grinding, breathing harshly and pressing closer. “No.”
“Why does it feel like this…?”
“Because I desperately want you.”
He overtook her mouth again, and a bolt of lightning shot straight to her core. She shuddered helplessly, needing his touch, needing his kiss, needing to understand why he’d just said what he had said to her.
She pulled her head back, shocked. Yesterday, he hadn’t wanted her. Had he? She licked her lips, meeting his gaze.
“You’re teasing me again,” she whispered, not a question, a statement.
“No,” he murmured, stroking her wet lips with two fingertips. “You’re teasing me. Yesterday, you teased me, Sydney, you…I can’t…”
He dropped her back to her feet, putting distance between them, jamming his fingers into his hair.
She frowned as he started pacing, watching him crack his neck to one side, then the other. “But…I don’t understand…”