He was rigid, hard as an iron poker.
“How wrong you are, love,” he managed to rasp, worshiping her as he went. Over her hip. To her belly, where she was curved and soft, so soft. He kissed the indentation, then dragged his mouth to her breast. “You are all that is lovely and feminine and beautiful.”
“You make me feel beautiful,” she murmured, clutching at his shoulders as he sucked her nipple.
He released it, pressing a kiss to the plump side of her breast. “You should feel beautiful. Because you are.”
And damn her idiotic husband for making her think anything less. The man ought to have been drowned in the Thames for the manner in which he had treated her, withholding passion from her, making her feel as if she were anything less than the astounding, lushly feminine goddess she was.Hurting her.Damnation, he wished he could avenge her pain.
“I am far too old to be beautiful,” she protested as he kissed his way to her neck.
He settled between her thighs and realized, quite belatedly, that he was still fully clothed.Damn it, this was becoming a regular problem when he was in her presence.
Demon leveraged himself over her on one elbow, using his free hand to cup her face. “Look at me, Mira. You are not too old to be beautiful. You could never be too old. Indeed, I’ll wager everything I possess that when you are gray-haired, you will be every bit as beautiful as you are now. Every bit as tempting.”
“Damian.” She said his name on a sigh. “You always know what to say.”
He rubbed his thumb over her lower lip. “Here now. I ain’t charming you, Mira. I’m speaking truth.”
And he meant that. Demon Winter had done his fair share of wooing women. But no woman he had ever known had come close to this one. Mira was unparalleled. Everything he said to her emerged from a place of deep, abiding honesty. She made him feel things he had not known were possible. This passion between them would necessarily come to an end because of the differences in their worlds, but he never wanted her to doubt how lovely and desirable she was.
She kissed the pad of his thumb, a sensual smile curving her lips. “You are a dangerous man, Damian Winter. I like you far, far too much.”
“Tell me something,” he said, running his forefinger along her silken jaw as he studied the lustrous beauty of her face. “If you could be anywhere in this moment, with anyone, who would you choose to be with and where?”
“I would be Mira and Damian.” Her soft voice curled around him like a caress. “I would not be anywhere else or with anyone else.”
“Not if you could be free, truly free?” he pressed, for he had sensed she was unhappy with her circumstances. That she felt mired by obligation, even with her husband gone.
“I am as free as I am able to be when I am with you.” There was a tinge of sadness underlying her words.
He kissed her, feeling that sadness burrow itself in his heart. When their lips parted, they were both breathless and beyond words. With Mira’s help, Damian shucked his own garments until no more cloth barriers existed between them. She was positioned at an erotic angle on the pillows, her body like an offering he could not resist. He parted her folds, finding her slick with dew. Hot and ready.
Her hands traveled all over, anointing him with fire.Yes, he thought.Touch me, Mira.Take what you want.Or mayhap he spoke the words aloud. He was beyond knowing. As if she had heard him, she took his erect cock in a firm grasp and stroked him. More heat exploded, beginning in his cock, radiating out. His ballocks tightened. His hips thrust.
“Put me inside you,” he told her.
She did, guiding him to her entrance. One thrust, and he was deep in her welcoming warmth. She gripped him tight, so tight. They had spent many nights like this, wrapped up in each other, and each time was more potent than the last. He did not think he could ever get his fill of her.
Although he wanted to savor their joining, his body took complete command of his mind. He made love to her fast and hard, sliding in and out of her in a rhythm that had them both moaning and panting. He took a succulent, berry-pink nipple in his mouth and sucked as his fingers worked over her pearl. She arched into him, crying out, wild in her pleasure, her nails scoring his back.
Likely, she would leave marks. Mayhap draw blood. But he wanted it. He wanted her savagery, her intensity. He wanted her. Desperately. Everything she had to give and more.
Desire rolled down his spine as she clenched on him, crying out her pleasure in wild abandon. He shifted his position then, bringing him deeper, taking both her hands in his and lacing their fingers. Their palms perfectly aligned, Demon pinned her hands to the pillows on either side of her head. Again and again, he thrust. The slickness of her spend coated him. The scent of her perfumed the air, floral, exotic, and musky. Her breathy moans spurred him on as she wrapped her legs around his waist.
“Look at me, Mira,” he urged as he hovered over her.
Her eyes fluttered open, the brilliance of her blue gaze hitting him anew. Her fingers tightened on his. This was more than a mere tupping. So much more. He had never felt the depth of connection he felt with Mira before. It was terrifying and yet it felt bloody good.
“Damian,” she whispered, so much emotion in her voice. “I…oh.”
Her words trailed off, and he knew a moment of regret that she did not finish them. What had she been about to say? He wanted those words, wanted her feverish surrender. But then the ripples of her climax—yet another—tightened on his shaft, and he was lost. She felt too good, clasping him, holding him as if inside her was where he belonged.
The ferocity of his orgasm was astounding, crashing over him like the storm-tossed waves of a sea. He did not have enough time to withdraw. Instead, he pumped into her, exploding, filling her with his seed as he sealed his lips to hers.
They kissed, hearts thundering in unison, as the world around them returned. Later, he would regret what he had done, the lack of care he had taken yet again when he had vowed not to do so after the first.
What the devil was the matter with him?
