to invite him in when he took the initiative. Had he read her mind or seen the question, the desire, in her eyes?
She swallowed. ‘I’m sure I can find something appropriate,’ she said. She had no idea what was in her cupboards but did it matter if she didn’t have champagne flutes? She would drink out of jam jars if it meant prolonging the evening.
Damien followed her inside and she could sense his eyes watching the tightening of her butt as she climbed the stairs. She searched the kitchen cupboards and found two fluted glasses. Damien filled them before proposing a toast.
‘Here’s to golden nights,’ he said.
She closed her eyes as she sipped her drink. She could picture the waves of desire that surrounded her to form a kaleidoscope of colour. She could smell the bubbles, as well as Damien’s fresh citrus scent. It enveloped her, surrounded her, cushioned her and kept her safe.
She opened her eyes to find him watching her. His gaze was unwavering and she could see desire in the dark depths of his eyes. She felt her temperature rise as a flush stole over her cheeks and anticipation burned brightly inside her. She couldn’t breathe. His gaze was so intense it felt as if the room lacked oxygen, as if it was being burnt up in his gaze. She parted her lips to take a breath. Her lips were dry so she licked them with the tip of her tongue.
Damien groaned, giving in to his desire, giving in to hers. He wrapped an arm around her back, pulled her to him and kissed her hard. He tasted of champagne, of late nights and silent promises.
She waited for her nerves to raise the alarm, to ask her what she thought she was doing, but the anxiety didn’t come, the alarm didn’t sound. She wanted this, she needed this. There was no fear. In Damien’s arms she felt safe. Beautiful. Special. Desirable.
Nothing else mattered.
There was nothing else.
She reached one hand behind his head, holding him to her as she kissed him back. His tongue was warm in her mouth. His hands were warm on her skin. Every inch of her was on fire, consumed with desire. She felt his fingers on her arm, could feel them tracing a line up to her shoulder, across her collarbone to the hollow at the base of her throat, where she felt his thumb dip into the little dimple. She couldn’t breathe, she’d forgotten how.
Abi needed to breathe.
She pulled away and he lifted his hand, releasing her from his touch. She almost begged him not to as she didn’t want him to let her go.
‘Are you okay?’ he asked.
She nodded, unable to speak.
His dark gaze moved lower, over her breasts. How could such dark eyes hold such heat? Such intensity? She held her breath, trying to stop the rise and fall of her breasts, but still her nipples peaked in response to his gaze burning through the thin fabric of her dress. She could feel the moisture between her legs as her body responded to his gaze devouring her. He wasn’t laying a finger on her now and yet she felt ready to self-combust. A look, a glance, a smile was all it would take for her to melt under him.
‘Do you want to stop?’
‘No.’ Her voice was breathless. ‘I want you to make love to me.’
She didn’t need to ask twice. With one arm he scooped her up and held her against his chest, pressing her to him, as he carried her into her bedroom.
He lowered her to the bed before shrugging out of his jacket. He tugged at one end of his bow tie, pulling it undone and tossing it onto the chair at her bedside. He eased himself over her, supporting himself on his elbows. She reached up and ran her hands over his biceps, feeling his strength, marvelling at the firmness within him. His breath was coming fast now, she could hear it and feel it as it hit the bare skin of her shoulders and neck, but he didn’t move. How could he hold himself so still? He was poised to move forward, to take this to the next level, but somehow he held his position. He was in no hurry. How could he be so calm when desire threatened to consume her?
The waiting was exquisite agony. A delicious sense of anticipation battled with the desire to have him take her now, right now. She arched her hips up towards him, pushing herself against his groin, and was rewarded when she felt his matching desire, hard and firm, straining against his trousers.
She breathed out on a sigh as she let her knees fall open and wrapped her legs around him, pulling him closer, pulling him down against her. She heard him groan and he lowered his body until it covered the length of her. She wanted this. She wanted to feel his weight on her, she needed to know this was real.
Every cell of her body tingled, she could feel each one straining, alive with the possibilities of what was to come. Her expectations were almost painful, her reaction intense.
He reached for her, ending her suspense. His lips were on her ear lobe, soft and warm, his breath in her ear. He kissed her neck and then his lips covered hers and she melted into him and let him consume her.
His fingers skimmed over her nipples, hard and peaked. He swept the strap of her dress from her shoulder and exposed her left breast to the cool air. His thumb brushed over her nipple, teasing, tantalising. She cried out as a wave of desire washed over her and a bolt of heat scorched through her, sweeping from her nipple to her groin in a searing flash.
His lips left a trail of hot spots from her lips to her throat and collarbone until finally he took her breast in his mouth, rolling his tongue over the taut flesh until Abi thought she might come then and there. But she didn’t want it to end. Not yet. Maybe not ever. She wanted to feel him, to touch him, to arouse him too.
Her fingers found the buttons of his shirt and she undid them, one by one, until she could run her hand over his chest. His warm skin was firm but soft under her fingertips. She pulled his shirt from his body as his mouth continued to tease her nipple, sucking and licking. He cupped her breast in his hand and ran his thumb over the peaked bud, making her moan. She arched her back, offering herself to him, and he took one breast in his mouth again, sucking hard, and she almost exploded in his arms.
She ran her index finger from his sternum down along the line separating his abdominal muscles, following the line of dark hair that led below his waistband. She concentrated on him, wanting to extend the pleasure, wanting to share the delight. She unbuckled his belt and snapped open the button on his trousers, unzipping his fly and pushing his trousers low on his hips. His erection strained against the fabric of his boxer shorts. She pushed them out of the way and ran her hand over his shaft, which was strong and thick, and she felt it rise to meet her. He groaned and the sound of his arousal urged her on.
His hand ran up her thigh and the soft folds of her dress fell away with his touch. His fingers met the elastic of her underwear and slid under the lace. Abi let her legs fall apart again, opening herself to him, giving herself to him, and she bit back a cry of desire as his fingers slid inside her. She was slick and wet, throbbing. His thumb found her centre and she gasped as his touch took her to the edge.
But she didn’t want it this way. She wanted to share the experience. She wanted all of him and she wanted him to have all of her. She let go of him to quickly pull her dress over her head, and now she lay naked before him. His dark eyes roamed over her body, setting her on fire with his gaze.
She wanted to feel him inside her. She wanted them to be joined together. She lifted her hips and reached behind him, holding his hips, cupping his buttocks, to pull him close. Her knees were bent and she arched her back as she fitted him to her like pieces of a jigsaw.
She
