Replacing his finger with his mouth, he kissed her, licking at her lips, teasing his tongue into her until they were both covered in sugar and sweet fruit, passion, and the taste of each other. His hands dug in her hair as he drew her in closer, and her bare breasts brushed across his button-up shirt. Wanting to feel her against him, he used one hand to laboriously undo each button on his shirt, while he nipped and ate at her mouth.
When he got the shirt apart and her chest collided with his, they both groaned. "You feel so good, Mandy. So perfect."
Her head tipped back and he took the opportunity to suckle her neck.
"Damien, it’s so different with you. So much more… intense. That sounds ridiculous, doesn’t it?"
"No." Not at all. "I was thinking the same thing."
His knees were crunching around in crackers and cheese, and he shifted, needing more.
"Lie back." Even as his hands were easing her down, he realized that was wrong. "Shit, we’re not supposed to do that." He pulled her back up, immediately feeling guilty for forgetting and flinging her around like a rag doll. "Sorry."
Mandy touched his cheek. "Don’t do that. Don’t apologize for something like that. This is new for both of us and we’re trying to learn how to adjust. The book did say after the fourth month I shouldn’t lie on my back for long periods of time, like sleeping. I don’t think this counts, but if it makes you more comfortable we can just try a different position."
He loved how she was so matter-of-fact about what they were doing. They were lovers, having sex, and no sense in tiptoeing around that.
She was wiggling out of his arms. "The book encouraged couples to experiment with new ways of making love."
The only problem with that was they weren’t a couple. They were something that was getting more and more complex and harder to define. Not willing to dwell on that too long, Damien was about to suggest they lie down on their sides and see where that went. Before he could open his mouth, Mandy turned and crawled toward the pillows, peeling down her bikini bottoms.
He was about to protest that he would have liked to have done the peeling down of those, when she went up on all fours.
"Though they did suggest coming from behind as a good one. Would that interest you?" And she stuck her perky little ass in the air toward him.
Holy hell. Damien closed his eyes and counted to five before he could answer. Everything ached with longing. Even his teeth wanted her. His ears were turned on.
She had no idea. Absolutely no fucking idea what she did to him. "Yes, that interests me."
Yanking his shirt and pants off and tossing them in the hamper along with Mandy’s bikini bottoms, he shoved the cracker mess right off the side of the bed. He’d give the maid an extra large tip. Then he put one hand on Mandy’s pale backside and moved right alongside her.
Thighs touching hers, he stroked her smooth skin, enjoying the curve of her heart-shaped ass, the arch of her spine rising gracefully to her neck. Goose bumps rose under his touch, and she gave a sweet, low sigh.
"I think this will work."
"Oh, this will definitely work." Damien leaned over and kissed her shoulder, his fingers trailing between her legs, his erection pressing into her hard and urgent.
And what he thought might work would be them. Him and Mandy. Together. Not just here, but there, too. Back in New York.
The thought startled him so much, kicked him in the gut and head and everything in between, that he forgot where he was going with his hand and let his finger pause right where the swell of her bottom met her inner thighs.
Resting on her forearms, Mandy was wet with anticipation, swollen with longing, tilted back as far as she could without snapping her spine in two, and Damien had stopped. His finger hovered over her crotch like a hummingbird with a flower. He was supposed to be dipping into her bloody nectar, and he wasn’t doing a damn thing.
"Damien?" She felt ridiculous with her bum in the air, arms forward, as if she was paying homage to the mattress.
This could get very embarrassing in a moment or two.
"Mandy," he whispered behind her, voice hoarse and raw.
Then when she would have been satisfied with just his finger, he came in with the big guns. Or gun. He slid inside her with one quick thrust that tore the breath right out of her.
"Oh, my." She kneaded the sheet and swallowed hard as he filled her.
"Is this okay? You’re comfortable?"
"Oh, yes." She closed her eyes, head resting on her forearm, and shuddered. "I’m fine, thanks. Never been better, really."
Then she decided talking was going to have to wait.
She was going to be much too busy having an orgasm to form words.
Especially since he started moving with tight just-right movements, his hands on her waist, firm and hard and masculine. She loved his control, the way he rolled his desire in and out at will, the way his emotions loosened when he was with her like this.
He was taller and more muscular than Ben, but it wasn’t just physical features that made Ben seem small in comparison. It was Damien’s presence. His aggressive, vibrant approach, his confidence, yet secret hidden depths attracted her to him in a way she never had been to another man.
If Ben was a biscuit, Damien was a Danish, Cool, sweet, complicated and very, very irresistible.
Too much Danish wasn’t good for her.
But she was on holiday and it was okay to indulge. She would resist the temptation when she got home and thought through the consequences of overnibbling.
Damien’s fingers snaked around and cupped her breasts. He stroked in and out of her as he played with her nipples, and Mandy let go of her thoughts and gave in to the ecstasy of his body in hers.
As she tumbled into an orgasm, blurting out the obvious, "Don’t stop, I’m coming," Damien swore.
Then her own cries of pleasure were drowned out by his as he let go and poured himself into her. She felt the spasm of his body, felt the jerk of his hand on her breast, felt the heat of his skin pressed against hers.
And as she heard his groan, mingling with hers, her eyes closed, Mandy knew this wasn’t just sex.
This was something much more, and it scared the bloody hell out of her at the same time it exhilarated.
Chapter 15
"Tell me we never have to go back," Mandy said as she lay on the bow of the sailboat.
Damien tilted the sail and watched her sun herself, looking relaxed and beautiful, arm flung over her eyes. He had the urge to suggest they toss over their lives back in New York and sail off in the vast ocean and never look back. Pretend the real world didn’t exist and that they could just have each other, idyllic days in the sun, and nights spent making love.