But no. She didn’t need to be tempted by him. If she could do the tempting herself.
And wasn’t that just it? Her whole life men sought her. Tried to paw her. She had left every incident unscathed, but still, it was like she was constantly being hunted. So what if she became the hunter? What if—like Mirabelle and her had discussed—she took control of her own experiences? And who better to hunt than an experienced man who wanted nothing in return?
It was the perfect match.
“Lucinda?” His silky voice stilled her fingers. Her itching fingers. Just a few more inches and she could take control.
“Damien…”
Chapter 5
She wasn’t finishing her thought. Why wasn’t she finishing her thought? Damn. The air was thick between them. He could hardly take in a breath, never mind a deep enough inhale to regain his senses. And he could feel the arousal emitting from her. Her damn fingers need move just a few inches further down and she’d sense his longing.
“Lucinda—”
“I think the bleeding has stopped. But I should probably get this dried blood off of you.” She wet a few cloths and gently cleaned his skin, her featherlight touches setting him ablaze. By the time she was done, his cock was as hard as granite.
And his voice came out all gravelly when he tried her name on his tongue one more time, just because it felt so good. “Lucinda…are you done?”
Their eyes met. Something passed between them. Something long. Something hard. Something they could not make sense of.
Without another word, she took his hand and led him up the stairs. When he stepped into her room, she backed herself up against the door. Closed it. Locked it. One of her hands pressed to the door, unsure.
After a beat passed, she turned to him. “No, Damien. I’m not done.” He dropped the wadded up ball of clothes he had been holding in his hands. Ready for her. Whatever she was about to do. He’d be ready for her.
It took a few steps, but then her palms were on his chest, and he knew she was going to kiss him. He wanted her to kiss him. He wanted her to want to kiss him, so he waited, letting her make the move.
His hands found her waist and squeezed, reassuringly. His thumbs made small circles on her stomach. Watching her eyes fly shut was erotic enough it made him want to burst in his breeches. What would it be like to see her fully come on him? He gripped her harder, stealing himself. Girding his resolve. He could wait.
KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.
She flew back from him, covering her mouth.
“Lucy? Did you want to have dinner this evening?” A woman’s voice called out.
And Damien knew the moment was gone.
Unless he did something about it.
He latched his arms around her, pulling her to his chest. “Don’t go,” he whispered the words as if they were a kiss against her ear.
It took a second. Or maybe a minute. Or perhaps even a few. He would never know. But then she spoke in a rushed tone. “I-I-I’m not hungry, Mirabelle. The smoke drained me. Thank you.”
“I’ll have cook leave some food for you later then.”
The footsteps padded away, and Damien could feel his heart pounding against her chest. What was it about her that he needed so desperately? He had never felt such longing for anyone before.
“Why didn’t you go?”
Her eyes were locked on his, wild. Hungry. “I don’t know.”
“What do you want from me, Lucy?” And it was like she melted when he said her name. Melted away from him. Caught her breath. Took a step back.
“I don’t know, Damien.”
“Be honest with yourself, Lucy. With me.”
She took a deep breath, then rolled her shoulders back, and widened her stance slightly. “I’m writing a book.”
