Page 40 of Unmasked

The conflict in his voice called to her, and she wanted to kiss him until he forgot how to speak. “Too late.”

“It’s not too late for me to do the right thing.” He pulled back, breaking free of her greedy hands. “I can go back outside and we can wake up tomorrow morning and act like this never happened.”

“As if you’d be able to forget me,” she teased.

“I said act like it never happened...not forget.” He shook his head, dark hair gleaming in the moonlight. “Unfortunately, I’ll never forget.”

She drew her zip down slowly, the sound cutting through the quiet room. His eyes tracked the movement, swallowing up every inch of bare skin as it was revealed. And she was bare all the way down.

“Christ.” His muttered curse sent anticipation zinging through her as she dropped the dress to the floor and stepped out of her heels. “You were sitting there naked under that dress the whole evening?”

“Uh-huh.” She stepped forward and reached for him, brazenly drawing her fingers along his fly. “Now strip.”

This time there was no argument. He disposed of his suit jacket and popped the buttons on his shirt one by one. His bare torso looked paler in the glow of the city lights, but each muscle was defined to perfection. He was a powerful, virile, intoxicating man.

She slid her hand over his thigh and felt the muscle twitch in response. Emboldened, she ventured farther by brushing her fingertips over his straining erection, eliciting a gasp from him. His hand shot down, fingers wrapping around her wrist as he yanked her hand away.

“Lainey,” he growled. “Wait—”

She cut off his words by pulling his face down and kissing him. Hot, hard, wet. She explored him ruthlessly, revelling in the taste of him. A guttural moan reverberated in his throat, and he ground against her.

Balancing on her tiptoes, she fused their bodies together. Sighing into him, she thrust her hands into his hair and tugged. Hard. The buckle of his belt dug into her belly, and his mouth seared a trail from her lips to her collarbone, each kiss hungrier than the last. She had to have him, had to have every glorious inch of him.

The moment when the fight left his body filled her with a roar of power so loud and forceful it shook her to the bone. She had him exactly how she wanted him—without disguises. Without pretence. His shoulders dropped and his kiss intensified. It was as if the temperature in the room shot up a hundred degrees, and the air around them sizzled and popped. His fingers bit into her hips, teeth nipping at her skin. He was marking her, claiming her with his touch.

Then she was being lifted, wrapping her legs around him while he spun her. Two steps and her back met with the glass of the hotel window. It was cold on her bare skin while the front of her burned brightly, flames licking and growing with each stroke of his tongue. She traced the corded muscles in his neck, her fingertips smoothing over his Adam’s apple.

Stubble scratched at her skin as he devoured her with gentle nips of his teeth. She wanted to see the marks, to see the evidence of his desire. A shiver shot down her spine, deepening the ache between her legs.

“Put me down,” she whispered. “I want to touch you.”

“Not yet.”

He carried her to the bed and dropped her onto the mattress, settling on his knees and pressing his face between her legs. He kissed her there, swirling his tongue over her clit and wrenching a cry from her.

“You’re so fucking perfect.” He trailed kisses along the length of her heated sex, each one sending shock waves through her.

* * *

What had he done to deserve this incredible woman in his bed? He traced the sensitive curve of her inner thigh, chuckling as she bucked against him. He was going to draw it out, make her beg. He’d been hungry for so long, and she was a hot meal, a cold beverage, the light at the end of the tunnel. Every fucking cliché in the book...but it felt real. Special.

She writhed on the bed as he took his time getting to every line of her body. He drew his tongue up to flick over the sensitive bud of her clit.

Nails bit into his skin, delicious pain slicing through the fog in his head. He grabbed her hands and brought them together, easily encircling both wrists in one strong grip. He held her steady, making sure she couldn’t move to touch him while he pleasured her. Her hips lifted from the bed, pressing shamelessly against his face.

“Patience,” he said, swirling his tongue against her mercilessly. Each stroke was gentle, designed to wind her up but hold orgasm out of reach.

“You’re a cruel man, Damian.” She threw her head back. “I can’t take it.”

“You will take it.” His voice came out edgy, raw.

Familiar desire crowded his senses. He was losing his grip. Restraint was slipping through his fingers with each groan and under-the-breath curse out of Lainey’s mouth. She was a firework, ready to explode and burn them both.

He wanted to be burned. Tonight, he wanted it more than the air in his lungs.

“Damian, please.” She lifted her head and her hazel eyes caught his attention. “I’m not too shameless to beg.”

She laughed then, the breathy sound sending heat coursing through him. Her wrists tugged in his one-handed grip, but he held on, restraining her. That action alone had him hard beyond anything he’d experienced in a long time. And those smudgy, smoky, needy eyes...fuck.

---