Page 80 of Remembering Passion

Ella was no innocent spectator in this tango.

Her passion knew no bounds as she reached for my shirt, hastily undoing the buttons. With the shirt gaping open, I leaned over her, bringing my nose to hers. “I remembered something else.”

Her eyes opened, giving me a magical and quizzical view.

“What do you remember?”

“A text message I sent you.”

Thoughts swirled in her orbs before Ella gasped and covered her eyes with one hand. “I can’t do that.”

She never had, not with me. Ella was good with me going down on her, but the idea of her sitting on my face had always been a bridge too far.

“You can,” I reassured.

“I’m embarrassed.”

“My tongue was just in your cunt. I want it back there. It’s the same thing.”

“It’s not.” When I didn’t respond, she widened her eyes. “Damien…”

I cupped her cheek with my palm. “I remember everything. Let’s make new memories, too.” I saw the hesitation in her expression. “If you hate it, you can stop it.”

“If you hate it…”

A laugh bubbled from my throat. “I most definitely will not hate it.” Flopping on my back, I scooted toward the pillows.

Ella sat up and shook her head.

“You’re saying no?” I tilted my face with a grin. “You’re wounding my confidence.”

Her lips quirked, bringing the tips upward. “Your confidence is fine. I’m not saying no to…” Pink rose from her breasts to her neck and cheeks.

“Sitting on my face,” I said, offering her the rest of the sentence.

“Yes…to that. I’m saying it’s not happening with the gross inequality in our clothing.”

I liked the inequality. I could deal with her naked twenty-four hours a day. “I don’t need to be naked to eat you.”

“I want you naked.” She moved to her knees and crawled toward me.

Fuck, the look she was giving me was sexy as hell. Her hair tousled, swaying with each movement. With her swollen lips pursed, and a sultry gleam in her eyes, she was a seductress—a siren—calling to me. Unlike those of Greek mythology, Ella wasn’t luring me to my destruction. Even if she were, I’d never turn away.

I offered no resistance as she pulled my shirt over my shoulders and tugged at each arm. The belt joined the shirt on the floor, followed by my pants. It was as she reached for the waistband on my boxers that I stopped her. “I’m going to come if you do that.”

“Then I won’t…”

Her inability or unwillingness to say ‘sit on your face’ made me grin. “You will. After you scream my name and allow me to lick you clean, then the boxers will come off because I’ll be so damn hard, I will need to fuck you.” Laying my head on the pillow, I give her my best smile. “Come on, Ella. It’s time to come.”

She sucked in a deep breath and nibbled her upper lip.

Curling my finger, I bid her closer.

Reluctantly, she obeyed. It was when she placed her calves on each side of my face that I saw what I’ll never forget. “Your pussy is beautiful from this angle.” I held on to her legs, holding her in place as I waited for her to lower herself. Straining my neck, I ran my tongue between her folds.

“Daaaamien.”

“Come down on me.”

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