Damn.
That’s not good for my control, not at fucking all.
And when, a moment later, she moans softly, lips parting to allow me in to taste her, it’s even worse for my fragile hold on it.
My dick is aching. Sweat has broken out on my spine. My nose is full of the soft scent of her, the silk of her hair settles over my hand. I need to feel her body against mine, need to stroke the curves of her, need to taste them.
But she’s two steps ahead of me.
She places both of her hands against my chest and shoves hard enough that I’m almost dumped out of my chair. The next second, she’s on her feet, grabbing my hand, dragging me up too.
I snag her bag and then we’re inside the room, bag on theground, slider closed, my hands all over that gorgeous body. It feels like everything I’ve dreamed of—soft and feminine andmine.
“Damon,” she whispers, her hands kneading at my shoulders, drawing me closer, lips parting.
And I can’t resist the invitation.
I bend, take her mouth, meeting the thrusts of her tongue, driving my hand into her hair again, tilting her head back and tasting her exactly how I’ve dreamed of.
“Bed,” she murmurs. “Hurry.”
“No.”
She jerks, eyes going wide, the haze of pleasure fading, concern and embarrassment weaving through expression.
I gently tuck her hair behind her ear. “We’re not going to hurry, Red.”
Those eyes go wider.
“We’re going to take it slow, going to squeeze every bit of pleasure out of tonight we can.”
Lips parting, emerald eyes going somehow wider.
“I’m going to learn every inch of your body, learn what makes you squirm and what makes you blush and what makes you”—I slide my hand down her belly, slipping one finger into the waistband of her slacks, brushing it lightly over the silken skin there—“wet.”
Her inhale is sharp.
“And if you don’t like something, if we go too far or too fast or you just change your mind”—I cup her jaw—“all you have to do is just say the word, baby. We’ll stop, no matter how far we’ve gone and there will be no questions asked.”
She goes still, not breathing for so long that I say, “Breathe, baby.”
She exhales.
And I see it, that look that used to bring terror to every partof me—because I couldn’t risk falling for someone, because if something bad happened and I wasn’t there to stop it, because if my hold on my temper snapped andIwas the one to inflict hurt…
How could I fucking live with myself.
But right now it’s not fear I’m feeling.
Right now, it makes me feel a hundred feet tall.
“Damon,” she whispers and her next question hits me hard, “Are you sure? This— Us—” Her eyes close for a moment then reopen. “You made it pretty clear before that you didn’t want?—”
“I’vealwayswanted.”
Her fingers flex on my shoulders.
“Always,” I repeat. “I’m not convinced I’m good for you. I’m not convinced that I can give you what you need. I’m not convinced I can trust myself with you?—”
