“I’ll stay,” Suzanne said, and a look of sheer bliss covered Damian’s face. “For the next couple of weeks.”
“Oh.” His brow wrinkled.
“That’s time for us to get to know each other. Then, maybe you can come visit me in Colorado. Would you like that?”
He shook his head. “I can’t leave Padraig.”
“Why on earth not?”
“There are circumstances.”
“What circumstances?”
“I can't say.”
“Then this will never work between us. You expect me to pack up my whole life and move across the world, but you won’t be honest with me. And speaking of honesty, when are you going to tell me about the injuries to your back?”
Suzanne didn’t get an answer. Instead, Damian pressed his lips onto hers, nibbling across her lower lip and then her upper, teasing her with little flicks of his tongue. Although her brain told her she needed to know more about him, about why he was so possessive, why he felt this animalistic need for her, why he had been injured on his back and hands, her body knew only that she wanted him. In her mouth. In her body. In her heart.
She couldn’t fight his passion, because she shared it.
Brazenly, she parted her lips and thrust her tongue into the warmth of his mouth. She kissed him with longing, intensity, lust. She poured her essence into this meeting of their mouths, making all their previous kisses meaningless. She tasted, she teased, she taunted.
Deepening the kiss, she pushed him onto his back and climbed on top of him, grinding her still-clothed pussy into his burgeoning hardness. Her body ablaze, she pushed into him while she framed his chiseled face in her hands. Every groan from him fueled her passion, every thrust of his need against her kindled her craving ache. She drove into him, against him, climbing, peaking, and then jumping into the chasm as her body exploded into a thousand flaming arrows. Higher and higher she flew, her mouth still clamped to his, her body still racked with pleasure, rapture, bliss. The climax continued, pulsing through her veins like rivers of boiling honey. She moaned into his mouth, her tongue still tangled with his.
Her best orgasm ever, and they were both still fully clothed.
She broke the kiss, panting.
“Now do you believe you’re mine?” Damian’s voice husky with smoke and cinders.
“Yes.” Her whisper came in a breathless rasp. “I’m yours. And you’re mine.” She fumbled with his shirt and pulled it out of the waistband of his jeans. “Take this off.”
As he did so, she unbuttoned her blouse and flung it onto the floor. Her bra followed.
Damian’s gaze locked onto her nakedness. “You have the most beautiful breasts I’ve ever seen, Suzanne.”
“Take off your pants,” she said, unzipping her own. “I want you naked.”
He groaned as he removed his shoes, his jeans, his boxers. His eyes locked onto hers, and her whole body ignited.
“Now, Damian,” she rasped. “Take me now.”
“I want to love you slowly.”
“Later. Right now, I want you inside me. I need you. I don’t want to wait a second longer.”
“Oh God, love.” He pushed her onto her back, covered her with his body, and pierced into her, stretching her exquisitely. “So sweet, so tight.” His gravelly voice inflamed her. “Ah, yes. You were made for me.”
Suzanne gasped with pleasure so intense, so huge. She had never been filled so completely. She locked her legs around his hips, matched him, denying him nothing. She rose to meet every thrust, forcing him more deeply into her.
“I’d stay inside you forever if I could,” Damian said. He thrust and thrust.
Suzanne’s skin erupted in flames, her heart bounced in her chest. “More, Damian. Harder, faster.” Her breath whooshed outward in rapid puffs.
He increased his speed and pressure as he continued to plunge into her, wiggling his hips, filling every last millimeter.
She writhed underneath him, lost in ecstasy. Bliss. Rapture. Nirvana. The climax ascended higher and higher, and Damian rose onto his knees and pulled her hips to him as he pounded into her, his eyes squeezed shut and his beautiful teeth clenched. He thrust once more and his release pulsed into her as he groaned her name.
“I love you, mo cridhe.”
27
“I’m beginning to think you’re right, Damian.” Suzanne snuggled closer to her lover. She buried her face in his neck and inhaled his spicy, musky fragrance.
“About what?” He kissed the top of her head.
“That we belong together.”
“I never doubted it. What changed your mind?”
She smiled into his neck. “What do you think? That was incredible. That was amazing. That was…”
He pulled her on top of his body, and his soft chest hair tickled her nipples. “That, love”—he brushed his mouth over hers and nipped her bottom lip with his teeth—“was us.”
28
Isabella hated money spells. She didn’t like to use magic for her own personal gain. But Clyde Ross’s estimate had come in at three thousand pounds, which was a good chunk of the inheritance Merlina had left her.