And then she did, and they did, and she was lost.
* * *
She was back.
The rush of triumph inside him was like nothing he’d ever known—not for eleven years, at least. She was everything he remembered and more, and she came to him as if their years apart had disappeared. She pressed against him, responding fiercely as he kissed her. She was strong and sure, and every bit his match.
Their tongues tangled as she clung to him, and when he eased her legs apart with his thigh she arced her body against his in the hunt for more contact. Cupping her buttocks with one hand, he unlaced the strings of her bikini with the other as they traded kisses hungrily.
Glancing down nearly wrecked his control. He was painfully and hugely erect, while Lizzie was as sensitive as he remembered. He only had to stroke her lightly to hear her purr. He parted her lips and found the tiny bud. He teased and then pulled away, then teased some more as she clung to him, gasping out her pleasure.
‘Beneath me now,’ he instructed softly.
There was no need to ask. Lizzie was way ahead of him.
‘Slowly,’ he advised as she bucked towards him.
‘Why?’ Her eyes challenged him.
‘Because it’s been a long time.’
She raised an amused brow. ‘Like I don’t remember?’
Neither of them could forget, it seemed. The memory of taking her, of sinking deep into Lizzie’s tight, moist heat, was seared on his brain for all time. Maximum control was essential as he prepared to rediscover the woman he had enjoyed like no other.
He stroked and kissed and took his time. Lizzie was all hunger and need, and he had to slow her down. Teasing her, he cupped her between the legs, denying her the contact she wanted.
He smiled as he watched her eyes darken. ‘I’ve got you now,’ he whispered.
‘You think?’ she whispered back.
‘Shall we put it to the test?’ he suggested, still teasing her with kisses.
‘This is your island, and this is your beach, so I guess you can do anything you like,’ she said, seeming pleased at this idea.
‘Do you want me to?’
‘What do you think I want you to do?’
He smiled as she moved restlessly beneath him.
Hearing foil rip, she lifted her hips, and she was so aroused that at his first intimate touch she was reaching greedily for release.
This was the Lizzie he remembered from eleven years ago. This was the woman with whom he’d made love on every surface in his apartment—including pressed up against the floor-to-ceiling windows, where anyone who’d wanted to could have seen.
‘You’re right,’ he agreed. ‘We—you,’ he amended as he pinned her wrists above her head ‘—can do anything you want to do while you’re here.’
‘Including to you?’ she said. ‘Can I use you for my pleasure?’
‘I don’t see why not.’ He grinned. ‘But that would be for my pleasure too.’ Pressing her knees back, he moved between them. ‘Hold them for me.’
‘Like this? So I’m exposed...?’
She sounded so excited.
He told her yes.
She did as he asked, and now her brown eyes were almost black, with just a rim of sepia around her pupils. She was right on the edge.
‘Don’t tease me,’ she warned.
‘Pleasure delayed is pleasure intensified,’ he taunted softly.
‘None of that rubbish now,’ she warned him.
Taking hold of his arms, she arranged herself to her liking and shuddered out a soft cry when he gave her just the tip.
‘What?’ he murmured, sinking deeper.
‘You...this...’
He rocked his hips forward and gave her a little more. He pulled out completely before sinking even deeper into her tight, warm grip. The pleasure was intense. It took everything he’d got to hold back so she could get used to the invasion. She was throbbing around him, insistently drawing him on. He only had to move the smallest fraction for her to wail and let go.
Helpless in the grip of violent release, she bucked frantically back and forth, while he held her in place, making sure that she benefited from every last pulse of pleasure.
‘Worth the wait?’ he murmured when she quietened.
She was still groaning rhythmically against his mouth as the pleasure pulses, having faded, continued. He started to move again and she immediately responded, moving with him, needing more.
Making love to Lizzie was instantly familiar all over again. He knew exactly what she needed, and it gave him the greatest pleasure to give it to her. The only change he noted was that her appetite had grown.
It was a long time later when he hauled her to her feet and they ran to cool down in the sea. He swung her into his arms both times, to avoid the shells, and when he carried her back to shore and they dressed she reminded him that they had to get back.
‘An appointment?’ he confirmed. ‘I remember. Sadly no time for the house today.’
‘Another time?’ she said.
‘Why not?’ he agreed.
As they linked fingers to walk along the sand, to a soundtrack of rolling surf and seabirds calling, he wondered if he’d ever felt closer to anyone. Trust was a great thing, and he was glad he’d got Lizzie’s back.
He was proud of her—not for that reason, but for the way she’d fought back after the trial. She’d barely spoken of it, but he knew she must have had a rough time. The spirit he remembered so well from eleven years back must have carried her through, and it was no wonder that Iannis and Stavros liked her so much, and Stavros had wanted her to come to the island.
Rediscovering her Greek heritage would be good for Lizzie. There was nothing like a return to the homeland for restoring confidence and faith in the future.
‘Your new house is very beautiful,’ she said, glancing over her shoulder. You must be very proud of it?’
‘I am,’ he admitted, ‘especially as I had the pleasure of helping to build it.’
‘That must have been great,’ she agreed.
He was pleased that she understood the pleasure he’d found in working with his hands. ‘It was,’ he confirmed.
He glanced back too. Looking at his new place through Lizzie’s eyes gave him the same thrill that he’d felt when he’d first sat back to study his design on paper. He’d planned for the house to be in complete harmony with its surroundings, and he believed he’d succeeded.
‘It’s fabulous,’ Lizzie confirmed as they both paused to admire it.
‘I did have some help,’ he admitted dryly. But he felt the pleasure that only a man who’d selected each piece of stone from the quarry could feel. ‘Without the craftsmen I employed it would never have been built. I worked as their lowly assistant.’
‘That must have been a bit different for you,’ she said, ‘but from the look on your face I guess you enjoyed it?’
‘More than you know,’ he agreed.
‘Well, it was well worth the effort. You’ve created something really beautiful.’
‘You’re beautiful,’ he said, swinging her into his arms. ‘And one day I will bring you back here.’
* * *
Would he? Lizzie wondered. Would Damon want her within a hundred miles of him when he found out the truth about Thea?
‘Beautiful’ didn’t begin to describe his new home. It was a dream home. It was the type of home Lizzie wished she could give to Thea.
And Thea’s father owned it.
Her mouth dried when she compared Damon’s glorious beachside mansion to the one room she shared with Thea in London when Thea was home from school. How could she deny Thea this incredible lifestyle? Thea could have half a dozen music studios and no one would ever complain about the noise.
> ‘You could paint here,’ Damon said.
She swung around to stare at him in confusion for a moment. Her head was so full of Thea, as it always was, that she couldn’t switch track to herself.
‘You used to love painting,’ Damon prompted. ‘I remember you telling me.’