It’s all her.
She’s more powerful than she knows.
I tilt my head back, and Sophie looks up, her eyes vulnerable orbs that make her appear so fragile, her bottom lip quivering.
I open my mouth to say the words dangling on my tongue, but Sophie stops me when she crushes her lips to mine.
The kiss is heated, desperate, her tongue fighting for dominance until I relent and part my lips—mostly with a sigh of relief, because there’s a flicker of hope that she’s beginning to trust me again—and that’s when her tongue dives in and dances with mine.
Her body molds to mine as I pull her closer, her soft curves pliant in my hands as the kiss becomes more feverish, more passionate, and somehow, we fall onto the couch together.She has her thigh draped over my waist, pushing herself forward, but I break the kiss because I don’t want to take advantage of her.
“Wait, Sophie…” I whisper, my heart racing even faster when I see how flushed she is, eyes disoriented with desire. “Are you sure?”
Sophie grabs the back of my neck with the kind of firmness that I’ve never felt from her dainty fingers. “No more talking, Damian. Just kiss me again.”
She has no idea how dangerous that instruction is, because I’ve been losing my mind trying to fight these feelings, and driving myself insane these last two years trying to get her out of my head. She might be the one demanding the kiss, but I’m the one who needs it more when I meet her lips again.
Chapter 12 - Sophie
I don’t know what I’m thinking, kissing Damian with such fervor and vigor, as if my life depends on it, as if his breath is my sustenance, but I can’t stop myself.
Perhaps this comes from seeing him out there tonight in the valley, passed out in a pool of blood, realizing that he could have died.
He could have died tonight, and I would have had to live with the regret of not exploring whether my hatred could ever turn around again, if there was a chance—
No.
I’m thinking too much, and it’s as if there’s a tiny voice inside my head that nudges me, reminding me to stop living in the past, stop worrying about the future, and just live in the moment.
A few hours ago, I saw Damian bleeding out, felt his pain inside me as if it was my own, and now, he’s a warm body underneath me, draping my thighs over his waist as he settles a hand at the small of my back.
Correction.
He’s ahotbody, hard and solid beneath me, holding my weight as if I’m as light as a feather, kissing me with intense passion that makes me quickly forget about everything and just focus on the taste of his lips. He tastes like earth and authority as his tongue dips into the cavity of my mouth, and he drinks in my breath as if they belong to him.
And just now, he stood up for me when his friend was being cruel, and the way he had that man by the neck, speaking authoritatively to shut him up…
That washot, and my body burns for him.
Every inch of my body tingles, from the crown of my head to the tips of my toes, a fire raging beneath my skin when he slips a hand under my blouse before sliding it beneath the waistband of my shorts. He cups the mound of my rear with his large hand, kneading the soft curve and pressing me against the prominent, rigid bulge of his erection in his trousers.
I’m about to implode, it feels like, and I break the kiss just to catch my breath, meeting his eyes as if I’m searching for a metaphorical pinch to my skin to tell me this is all a dream.
God knows I spent countless nights dreaming about this exact moment, when the fire crackles to match the thumping of my racing heart, and when I can see his flushed face and swollen lips from our kisses, and feel his strength in his chest muscles beneath my palm. But my dreams could never do justice to his real eyes, ablaze with desire, and dark with hunger.
He’s watching me, too, sizing up my face as if he’s etching every fine detail into memory before he moves. He doesn’t say a word, he just moves swiftly, carrying me effortlessly with one hand as he gets to his feet, dragging the throw blanket from the backrest of the couch with his free hand.
His lips find mine for a sloppy kiss as he carries me toward the fireplace, my arms curled around his neck, our chests pressed together as our heartbeats align. I hear the whisper of the blanket falling to the floorboards before Damian sets me down on my feet.
His movements are tender, even though his eyes are wild with hunger as he licks his kiss-swollen lips, savoring the taste of our kiss as he stares deeply into my soul. He’s undressing my being long before he undresses my body, and my heart hammerswith maddening speed as he reaches for the first button on my blouse.
His knuckles lightly brush my collarbones—a deliberate touch that promises the sensations he’ll administer with his hands. I can’t believe I ever thought this would be a bad idea when there’s nothing bad about becoming undone at Damian’s hands. And he does it so well, skilled fingers deftly undoing my buttons before he scissors the fabric between his forefingers and middle fingers, holding my gaze as he slowly peels the blouse away.
My breasts become exposed, and Damian’s eyes flit to the luscious mounds as he sucks in a breath, his tongue skimming his lips with anticipation, eyes dark and glowing with eagerness and hunger. He dips his head while he slides the sleeves off my arms, meeting one nipple with puckered lips that latch on the nub as he pulls me closer with one hand on my back. I gasp, arching into his touch, my fingers carding through the soft tresses of blonde hair as he sucks on my breast.
“Oh, Damian…” I moan, my head falling back as he hooks my thigh onto one hip, grinding his clothed manhood on my core. The sensations rolling through me feel exquisite, heat pooling between my thighs. Arousal moistens the crotch of my panties, overflowing and seeping through the silk fabric of my shorts.
Damian’s hands are in all the right spots, touching me, caressing my body in places that elicit more moans until he’s kissing my lips, drinking in the sounds he creates with every touch. When he breaks the kiss again, it’s only to take a step back to appreciate my body, eyes raking over my curves while he undresses. He’s watching me, and I’m watching him undress, biting my bottom lip as he removes his pants, his heavy, hard cock springing free, powerful thighs exposed. Completely naked,he looks like one of those marble sculptures of Greek gods, except he’s very much alive, breathing and hot as he pulls me into his arms and guides me to my knees on the blanket.
