Page 29 of Velvet Deception

He slid his hand a little, cupping my face to hold me where he wanted me.

Then he lowered his head and crushed his lips to mine.

12

DIEGO

Ipressed my lips to hers, taking charge of the shock that controlled her. She would hyperventilate or pass out, gripped and trapped by the trauma that wouldn’t release her.

She gasped.

Surprise cleared out the stubborn thread of shock, even if only for a moment. I’d caught her off guard. I’d thrown a twist into the moment between us.

But she didn’t retreat. She didn’t wrench away or back up.

If I'd offended her by acting on this low-burning desire that had slowly been forming in the back of my mind as I tried to remember myself, she didn’t show a sign of it.

Instead, she went still. Staying in place, captive under my hand on her face, she tipped her face up so I could brush my mouth over hers. So I could absorb the electric shock of making contact with her like this.

Sofia was the start and end of what was familiar to me. She was the singular source of comfort and figurative security in my life, the life that I knew now.

We had become used to touch. She’d nursed me by carefully tending to my wounds. I’d accepted her fingertips stroking over my skin for the clinical purpose of changing my bandages and her smearing cream on my wounds. I didn’t flinch when she neared. She didn’t hesitate to act as my caregiver.

Now that familiarity and ease of comfort expanded and grew. With her soft, plump lips under mine, pliable in surrender, I relished this newness of feeling her essence in another, more sensual way.

Kissing her.

She sighed against me, sagging toward me as she let out a needy, almost silent moan.

Holding her.

She didn’t back up as I lifted my other hand to frame the other side of her face, guiding her to stay right here with me.

Slamming my lips on hers wasn’t the most conventional way to shock someone out of, well, shock, but it worked. Not only did it work, but it also encouraged her to distance herself from the mire of trauma and panic she couldn’t beat back. As she replied in kind, pressing her lips against mine harder, returning the need to explore this technique of avoiding the darkness, I welcomed her to ask for—no, to demand—all that she wanted.

What started as an impulsive idea to bring her out of that shock turned into something much more. Drugged and enraptured by the pressure of her sweet lips insistent against mine, I quicklygave up on the desire to stop. I couldn’t stop. Addicted to this peace, this simmering climb to let desire rule me, I did my best to calm her down and coax her to relax against me. She did, but she didn’t stop there.

Reaching forward, she slipped her hands up my bare chest. I’d felt her hands on me before, but not like this. Without the purpose of touching me to check my injuries or any other reasoning in the name of nursing me back to health, she glided her hands up my pecs in such a way that my heart raced faster. She looped her arms over my shoulders, circling them around my neck to pull me lower.

She wanted this. And she wanted more.

A sweet whimper of need slipped from her. I lowered my hand to slide it around her. Hugging her closer and slanting my head to get a better angle over her, I pulled her close to me until her soft breasts rubbed against me.

I growled, too lost in wanting her, in lusting for her. I parted my lips and stroked my tongue along the seal of hers, closed but eager. And she opened. On a sigh, she let me enter. I didn’t wait, easing my tongue into the sweet heat of her mouth so I could explore and taste. So I could dominate and caress.

Scraping her nails over my back, she gave the sexy impression that she wanted to climb me, to latch on and never let go.

She was no longer scared, but needy. She wasn’t relaxed, but determined to kiss me back and grind against me.

I still had no clue who I was. I had no idea what my identity was supposed to be and whether I had any right to want her like this or to take charge and encourage her to cave to this lurking desirethat sparked between us like a force of nature we could no longer control.

Despite that cluelessness and loss of identity, I was certain that it’d been a while since I’d had a woman to enjoy, a long time since I’d lowered my guard to let a woman into my life at all. And in that same stroke of confidence in my thoughts, I had no doubt that I’d never, ever had the pleasure and gift of someone as brave and sexy and sensual and sweet as Sofia. No one as special and giving as my angel who’d saved me from the alley. My Christmas angel.

And never like this. At the core of my soul, I knew I’d never found a woman I’d clicked with and connected so deeply with like this. A woman whose sweet lips enticed me to beg for all she’d let me have. Like I’d die if I let her go. Like I’d fail to want to carry on without her kissing me with such fervor and need.

Of course, Sofia had made an impression on me. She was the first person I saw once I woke up without my memories. She was the first person to care about my wellbeing and nurse me back to health with such generosity and compassion.

This was more. Her desperate kisses hinted at much more. My need to grip her shirt and steal her sweet breaths was a lot more than desire, more than mere gratitude for her saving my life and wanting me to recover.

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