Page 100 of Pandora's Pleasure
“There can’t be that many people out there like you described, though, right?”
“Are you fucking kidding me, Pandora?” He reached out and grabbed my head and shook it. “Earth calling Planet Privilege.”
“Well, I’ve been kept away from the real world.”
“You don’t watch the news?”
“We were discouraged. I mean, I was.”
He pressed a fingertip between my breasts. “You’ve been protected so as not to ruin your sensibilities.”
“Is that why you hate me?” My mouth went dry with the realization.
He sighed. “I’m a moody bastard. I get that. But my blinders are off and I see the world for what it is. That way, I know what I need to do to make it a better place.”
“I’ll work on myself.” I breathed through my humiliation.
His shoulders dropped. “Once you see the truth it can’t be unseen.”
The thought of anyone lacking the basic necessities of life made my heart sink. I was the living definition of spoiled.
“Come on, Marie Antoinette.” He reached for a strand of my hair and ran it through his fingers. “We should kiss now.”
“If you think it will help.”
“For the photogs.”
“Right.”
He reached behind my head and dragged me in, our mouths locking in bondage as our tongues fought with one another, my moans escaping as urgent wanton desires sparked inside my core. The memory of what he’d done to me by the pool filled me with delicious sensations.
He bit down on my lip and made me wince, leaving me breathless and panting when he pulled away.
“I imagine that looked…convincing.” Damien followed that up with a dashing smile.
I felt giddy and ashamed at how easily his suaveness had bypassed my defenses. His kisses were like arrows of unrequited love right into my heart.
Breaking away, I feigned the kiss had not affected me at all. “Oh, a shrimp salad. My favorite.” I moved over to the table, glancing back to see him still focused on me. “Thank you for this.”
“Allow me.” Damien pulled out my seat.
After sitting down, I felt the brush of his lips on my neck, firm and affectionate, trailing along my shoulder and causing me to shudder.
Please, let this be real…
His warm hand pressed against my nape. “Thank you for playing along.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Of course.”
He put his sunglasses on and sat opposite me. His laptop rested on another chair to his right.
Pointing to it, I said, “You were doing some work?”
“While you slept.” He reached for a napkin. “I find it hard not to keep busy.”
“What are you working on?”
“Research on why someone might want the land meant for the Fairfield Project.”
