lips against his.
He wrapped one arm around her, his palm splayed on her waist, and he became the aggressor. She held her lips stiff and rigid, but gradually, under his guidance, she opened for him.
He tore his mouth from hers and pushed her away. “This can’t happen,” Hawkins said raggedly.
“Why not? You already said that if I still wanted this when we got to Barcelona, then God help me. So maybe he is.” His parted lips were swollen and even more inviting. “After you hand me over to your Mr. Renner, we’ll never see each other again.”
“What is it you want from me?” He met her regard, but his eyes seemed so tired, a deep well of sadness.
She almost lost her nerve. “I thought that would be obvious, Mr. Hawkins. I want you to make love to me.”
For the briefest moment, Damara thought he was going to deny her. Especially when his expression became guarded and closed, his mouth a tight line. “Then take off your clothes.”
This wasn’t what she’d expected, either, but she wasn’t turning back now.
* * *
SHE TOOK OFF her utility belt and hung it on the bedpost.
“That’s where I put mine.” He smirked.
With shaking hands, she undid the clasp on his utility belt and hung it over her own. She wet her lips, and she couldn’t quite bring herself to look up at his face. Her heart pounded against her ribs like a thousand butterflies looking for an escape.
He took her hands in his own, and the weight of his stare drew her gaze upward like a magnet.
“You can still change your mind.”
“No, this is the path I’ve chosen and I’ll see it through to the end.” She searched his eyes. “It’s what I want.”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
The softness of his voice was at odds with the fury of his kiss. Heat incinerated her and she melted against him. His hands were everywhere—rough and calloused, but sparks burst in their wake.
“Can I touch you?” she asked against his mouth.
“Anywhere you want.”
For some reason, his words made her feel powerful. She pushed her hands under the soft cotton of his shirt, and she marveled at the way he felt. His skin was smooth, but it was like velvet wrapped around steel. She supposed that was a stupid comparison, but she had nothing else to liken it to.
Damara loved the way his muscles rippled under her caress, the way he held her tighter when she touched him in a way he liked. It was hard to concentrate on what she was doing, though, because he’d filled his hand with her breast.
It was a decadent sensation, his thumb stroking over the peak of her nipple. It was no wonder people did such things to have more of this.
“Boots,” he whispered in her ear. “They have to go before we can take this any further.” He released her, and she felt his absence acutely. All the places on her body that had been hot were now cold.
He sat down on the bed and began unlacing his boots.
Damara blinked at the sudden change. It was like a light switch for him, it seemed.
“Do you need help?” he asked her.
“Uh, no. I got it.” But she didn’t want to have it. She’d imagined when this happened, it would be some great unveiling, that he’d undress her tenderly— Enough of that. Dreaming and reality were two different things. He was the one who knew what he was doing, and if he said to take off her boots, she’d take them off.
“Hey.” He lifted her chin so she’d look at him. “There is no way to take off combat boots that’s sexy.” Hawkins winked at her.
And suddenly all the cold fled and she was hot again. She wondered how he did that, how he could change the barometer of a situation with almost no effort.
Damara kicked her boots off and started on her shirt.
“Ah, no. Don’t take away all my fun.” He pushed her back on the bed and pulled her shirt up just over her rib cage before pressing his mouth to the dip of her belly.
She shivered at the contact—the warmth of his mouth a contrast to the cool temperature of the room. His hands made short work of her bra, and he tugged off her shirt, divesting her of both garments.
He didn’t give her a chance to feel vulnerable or self-conscious.
“You’re so damn beautiful.” Hawkins dipped his head to her breast, taking her nipple in his mouth, and whirled his tongue over the tight bud. Then he kneaded both breasts in his strong hands as his mouth traveled south down toward her belly, down farther still to the waist of her fatigues.
He pulled them down her hips, taking her knickers with them.
And his mouth continued its descent.
The proper girl who’d been raised as a princess and cut her teeth on propriety wanted her to stop him, to tell him that people didn’t do such things. But the newly awakened woman in her wanted more. And it was the woman who was in charge. Damara trembled when he peeled the last of her clothing down her legs, but she wouldn’t tell him to stop. Not now. Want and need had become indiscernible from one another.
“No one has ever touched you here? Not even yourself?”
She bit her lip.
“Tell me, Princess. I want to know. I want to picture your pretty little fingers right here.” He touched his mouth to her womanhood.
His taboo words—for they were indeed taboo as no one had ever spoken to her in such a way—stoked her fire so hot she thought she’d erupt with it.
Once his mouth was on her, his lips, his tongue delving into places she’d never imagined a tongue should go—all rational thought fled. There were no more questions of what she should do, of what a princess would do, of what was proper. Only what she could do to get more of this sensation.
She arched her back and pushed herself toward the source of her pleasure.
He was committed to his task, a devotee of ecstasy. He knew exactly what he was doing, what she needed as he pushed her ever higher toward some unknown peak—and then her senses all narrowed to one small pinpoint until it exploded outward, thrusting her into the stratosphere.
Damara had never felt anything like it.
He pulled away from her, and she watched in a bliss-shrouded haze as he removed his shirt and fatigues. She’d wanted to do that, unwrap him like a gift she was giving herself.
“Nightstand drawer. Open it.”
She didn’t want to look away from him, but she did as he demanded and saw the box of condoms inside. She supposed the hotel concierge had thought of everything. Damara pulled one out and held it up for him.
“Oh,
