Page 14 of Possess Me

I’m breathing so hard, I can’t manage a reply. Not in words, anyway. My body is screaming yes. Begging, please. Crying out for him to take me before I burst from the primal need that is filling my every cell.

His clever fingers pull the nightgown over my head so that now I’m standing naked in front of him. He gives me a devilish look, then brushes his fingertip over my lips before trailing it down my neck, between my breasts, then between my legs to tease my clit.

I moan, already wet and desperate for a bolder touch. But that hand stays put—both torment and tease—as he uses his other hand to tilt my chin up so that I have no choice but to meet his eyes.

“Fuck the demons,” he says. “This house is ours.”

6

This house is ours.

The word seems to hang in the air as his mouth claims mine, the fingers of one hand twined in my hair as the other cups my bare ass, pulling me tight against him.

Need and heat surround us, writhing like a living thing determined to drag me down even while riling me up. To steal my breath and shatter my composure.

Damien.

This man who shatters me with every kiss. Whose touch makes me feel desperate and vulnerable.

And, most of all, loved.

I need that tonight, here in this strange place. I need him to anchor me, because otherwise I think I might lose myself in the walls of this house.

I don’t know how. I don’t know why. I only know that something dark is nipping at me. At us.

And I can’t fight the dark without Damien.

“Damien.” His name is a plea. A demand.

A prayer.

I’m not even sure what I want other than everything. His fingers inside me. His mouth on my lips, my skin, my sex.

Him.

I want him. I need him.

I want to kneel at the altar that is Damien.

And he damn well knows it.

“Damien,” I say again. “Please.”

His fingers barely stroke my clit, but it’s enough to steal thought and feed need until that’s all I am. Need and want and lust—but for Damien. Only for Damien.

His fingertips brush my cheek, so soft that I moan in protest because I’m craving hard, jonesing for wild. Needing what only Damien can offer.

And when his mouth covers mine—not softly, but with a hard, violent passion that sets my soul on fire— I moan into the kiss, my body pressing against his, my fingers clutching at his shirt. There’s never a time when I don’t want Damien, but right now it’s more than want. It’s need. Hell, it’s survival.

Something in this house is pulling at me. I don’t understand it. I can barely even think about it with my head so full of lust and heat. All I know is that if I don’t lose myself in Damien, I will lose myself completely. He’s my husband, my best friend, my mate.

He’s my savior. And tonight, I need him to take me all the way to heaven.

“Open your eyes,” he says, the words so soft, yet undeniably a command.

I comply, only to realize that he’s turned us so that we’re facing the mirror. Me, naked. My body flush, my lips swollen, and my nipples hard. He’s standing behind me now, his hands on my hips, his head bent so that his lips are near my ear.

“Touch yourself,” he whispers as his hands slide up my body to cup my breasts, his thumbs teasing my oh-so sensitive nipples.