Page 108 of Pandora's Pleasure
His lips at my throat, I heard his moans mix with my cries, captured in the bondage of his masterful fucking.
Damien searched my face as he rode out the rest of his climax. His eyes locked on mine, his expression a mixture of lust and love. Withdrawing from me, he eased me down onto my shaky legs.
I studied his face.
“Don’t do that,” he said.
I looked at him inquisitively through the shower of droplets.
“Don’t over think this,” he added.
My hand moved swiftly to his nape and I pulled him in for a deep kiss, fearing my words might betray me. If spoken, they would bind me to him.
He pulled away as though needing to examine my reaction.
My lips quivered with emotion. “I thought all of this meant we might change the way we are with each other.”
“The way we are?”
“That we’d be kinder.”
He pulled me into a hug, squeezing me against his firm chest. “I might frighten you if I admit…”
My eyes shot up to meet his.
“I’m on the precipice.” His eyes were filled with an emotion I’d never seen in him, the expression on his face held an aura of compassion as he gently stroked my arm.
But he hadn’t fallen yet. Or maybe he had, and he was refusing to admit it. Though showing it seemed inevitable. The way he was with me felt more intense, more connected. His affection flowing freely.
Away from the shower, he dried me off and wrapped a towel around me, then dried himself off.
Reluctantly, I headed off in the opposite direction, wrung out from sex, glancing behind me to see his long, confident stride carry him away from me.
In the bedroom, I blow-dried my hair into waves and applied some light make-up. I decided to put on my flowery sundress and pumps.
Sounds from the kitchen drew me in that direction.
Damien stood at the central island preparing a large salad in a wooden bowl, filling it with lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers and olives. Other vegetables waited on the counter to be chopped and added. The faint scent of garlic and roasting chicken filled the kitchen.
“You’re cooking?”
“Don’t sound so surprised.”
“I want to help.”
Glancing over to the main table that we’d not sat at once since we’d been here, I spied eight place settings.
“You invited people over?” I thought we didn’t know anyone.
Damien uncorked a second bottle of wine and placed it on the dinner table. “I know it’s our last evening, but we’ve had two days alone together.” He came over and planted a kiss on the top of my head. “You’ve had fun, right?”
“You know I have.”
He smiled. “I’ll see that you have everything you need when we return to Washington.”
“I want you to be happy, too, Damien.”
“Then no more talk of escaping.” He gave a nod of conviction. “We must show a united front.”
