He answered back with equal fire—claiming my mouth, my jaw, the hinge of my neck, sucking hard enough to send jolts of pleasure down my spine.
“Bedroom?” he asked, voice cracked open with restraint he was seconds from losing.
“Second door on the left,” I panted.
He didn’t hesitate.
His hands slid under my thighs, and he stood in one fluid motion—lifting me as if I weighed nothing. I threw my arms around his shoulders, clutching him, dizzy from the sudden height and the fever rolling off his skin.
My back hit the hallway wall for a heartbeat—his mouth devouring mine—before he pulled me away again. A door thudded open, half kicked, half shoved, and then—
My body met the familiar warmth of my sheets.
I sank into the covers with a gasp as he followed, pressing me deep into the mattress with the full weight of his body and the full intensity of his hunger.
“I need you, Damien,” I moaned, pulling him closer, desperate to feel every part of him.
“I need you more,” he shot back, biting my bottom lip before kissing it better. Then he stilled—only slightly—heat ghosting against the curve of my throat.
“Emma.” My name in his mouth, rougher now. Lower. “Can we try something new tonight?”
His lips brushed the pulse at my neck… then he sucked, slow and deliberate, turning my bones to liquid.
“I promise.” The words brushed against my skin. “You’ll like it.”
“Like what?” I managed, as the rigid length of him pressed, insistent and hot, against the soaked ache between my thighs.
His lips brushed my collarbone—then dragged up, slow and claiming, to the shell of my ear.
“It’s called sensory play. I take your vision away… and then I tease you with hot and cold.”
A tremor rolled through me so sharply I couldn’t hide it.
He smiled against my skin—felt it, inhaled it, savored it.
His tongue swept a deliberate path up to my ear, and then he sucked the lobe into his mouth with a tenderness that unraveled my spine.
“Oh,” I exhaled, my voice slipping into a whimper.
His fingers found the clasp of my bra, flicking it open with practiced ease before tossing it aside. Then his hand found my breast—bare now, nothing between us. His fingers rolled and twisted the hardened peak, sending lightning straight through my core. My back arched off the bed, rational thought cracking apart under the weight of pure, feral need.
“Okay,” I whispered—helplessly, honestly.
He shuddered, just once.
Then—
“Such an adventurous little one,” he murmured, the praise dark and sinful, dragging heat straight down my body. He pulledthe swollen tip of my breast taut between his fingers, watching my reaction like it fed something deep inside him.
Pleasure tore through me, tightening everything low in my belly.
A sound broke from my throat—raw, involuntary.
His voice dipped, velvet-lined steel. “I’ll be right back.”
And then he withdrew.
His warmth vanished. His weight lifted. His body left the bed. My skin tingled where he’d touched me, every nerve reaching for him in his absence.
