Hot Boss, Wicked Nights

He unwrapped her slowly as if opening a gift. Every inch of skin he exposed shimmered with heat, quivered in anticipation. His eyes were so potent it was as if they touched her. Caressed her. Explored every naked inch of her. The pleasure was like nothing she’d ever felt before. And building with every thump of her heart.

‘You have the most amazing body, Kate.’

She thought she saw something deeper in his molten honey gaze and willed away the flash of disappointment—had she expected him to say more? This wasn’t about feelings or emotion, she reminded herself. This was about lust—only lust, and temporary at that. She smiled up at him, then let her gaze drift down. ‘You’re not so bad yourself.’

Impossible not to let her eyes linger. Droplets of water glistened on his skin and clung to the coarse masculine hair that spattered his chest. She wanted to lean up on her elbows and place her lips on the pulse she could see beating at his throat, but right now a glorious lethargy claimed her. All she was capable of was arching back against the soft terry towel and letting out a sigh that sounded more like a purr.

Until the slow and thorough sweep of his gaze alone was no longer enough. ‘Damon…’

‘Shh,’ he whispered, lowering his head. ‘I told you to relax.’

She surrendered to the sensation of his teeth tugging oh-so-lightly on a nipple while his hands stroked her arms from shoulder to fingertips, from collarbone to the curve of her waist, then finally moulded around her breasts. Gentle and persuasive, light but with a powerful domination that made her weak.

Not relaxing. Her pulse rate doubled, her body cried out for more. But her feebly voiced protest was useless, ignored. And it really wasn’t a protest—more of a whimper. Of need. She closed her eyes as his mouth and hands and body journeyed lower and his tongue dipped into her navel. Lower. But when his breath brushed the apex of her thighs her hand shot down to grasp his hair. ‘I…’

He glanced up at her. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘I… No one’s ever…’ She trailed off, unable to speak.

An incredulous expression lit his face. ‘No one?’

She could barely shake her head. Not even the man she’d been going to marry had been so intimate with her. Sex had been good with Nick, but he wasn’t really a guy to look after a woman’s needs. Not hers, at any rate.

Damon, on the other hand… His gaze warmed, large blunt fingers pried her legs apart. ‘Then I’m the first.’

Her hand tightened on his hair, but she didn’t pull him away. Ooh. The first sweep of his tongue over her moist centre and she saw stars—bright, pulsing and white-hot. The second time and she quite simply flew apart. Ignited. Erupted. Exploded.

It was probably several seconds before she floated down from wherever he’d shot her breathless and gasping, to the relative sanity of their room and the slow-moving draught of tropical air provided by the overhead fan.

And Damon. Ripping open the foil packet, sheathing himself before easing inside her, slick, hot and hard, his gaze locked with hers, his arms quivering slightly supporting his weight above her.

Drawing her still-spasming muscles tight around him, she pressed her heels into his buttocks, grasped the smooth roundness of his shoulders and moved with him, spiralling towards the stars once more.

They crested the peak together. ‘Oh. My. God.’ Kate closed her eyes as they coasted down the other side. ‘I think I just hit the jackpot.’

‘Twice.’ Damon sounded pleased. And smug.

‘Another first,’ she felt duty-bound to tell him as he rolled off her. Though why she thought he deserved to know such a detail was a mystery to her.

He propped his head on an upturned palm to watch her, his free hand drawing lazy circles on her stomach. ‘You amaze me, Katerina.’

Her breath caught at his use of her full name. When her father used it, it sounded abrupt and formal. Damon’s husky low voice, the way he drew it out over four syllables, made it sound beautiful, desirable.

‘So I’m assuming Dad rang last night.’

‘Yes.’ A lopsided smile creased one cheek as he spoke. ‘He wondered what I was doing in his daughter’s room.’

She almost smiled back. ‘I’m guessing you didn’t enlighten him.’

‘I told him you’d left your phone at the desk and that you’d ring him back. I take it you haven’t.’

‘Not yet.’ And she didn’t feel inclined to at the moment. Said moment lost some of its sparkle as other emotions intruded, tarnishing the glow. Guilt because she should have rung home already. Irritation because she didn’t want to think about her family for the next few days. The countdown was on, the hours until they went back to their respective working lives in Sydney were ticking away. And she wanted to enjoy every precious but fleeting second.