Page 70 of The CEO

His touch is gentle as he washes away the grime of the night, working from my shoulders down my arms, across my collarbones, and over the swell of my breasts. Each caress feels like a form of worship . . . so different from the demanding grip that had bruised my skin just hours before.

“Do you enjoy it?” I ask, watching his face carefully. “The killing, the torture?”

His hands pause momentarily on my skin before continuing their journey down my stomach. “Enjoyisn’t precisely the right word. I take satisfaction in maintaining order—in delivering consequences that are deserved.” His eyes meet mine, unflinching. “But yes, there is a part of me that finds fulfillment in it. The same part that has kept me alive all these years.”

His honesty should terrify me. Instead, I find myself nodding—something dark and unacknowledged within me responding to his confession.

His mouth finds mine, soft where it had been demanding before. His tongue traces my lower lip, seeking entrance rather than claiming it. When I open to him, his kiss is deep. When his tongue slides into my mouth, my body aches for more.

His hands continue their gentle mapping of my body as he kisses me. They slide over my hips, down my thighs, then back up to cup my breasts. His thumbs brush over my nipples, sending sparks of pleasure through me despite the emotional exhaustion weighing me down.

When his lips break from mine, they travel a path down my neck, finding each mark he left earlier. “I’m not sorry,” he says, tracing the outline of his teeth around my right nipple. He kisses it gently—almost apologetically—his tongue soothing where his teeth had bitten.

“I don’t want you to be.”

“Why aren’t you scared of me, Eve?” he murmurs against my skin, one hand cradling the back of my head as the other slides down between my legs to cup me with possessive gentleness. “You’ve seen what I’m capable of. You know what I do in the shadows.”

“I don’t know,” I admit, my voice catching as his fingers begin to explore me with careful precision. “And that scares me more than you do.”

His eyes find mine again, searching for something I’m not sure I can name. Whatever he sees there must satisfy him, because he nods once, understanding passing between us.

His attention returns to my body, his mouth continuing its journey of exploration and apology. While he says he isn’t sorry, the look in his eyes tells me it pains him in some way to see me bruised at the expense of his pleasure.

“Tell me how to make it up to you.” His teeth drag gently across a collarbone. “Tell me what to do to make you feel cared for.” He slides a single finger inside me—a gentle pace compared to the brutality of earlier.

I don’t know what makes me say it, but I want him on his knees. I want him to submit to me. “Kneel.”

I half-expect him to react with force, but he doesn’t. His eyes search mine—that dark emptiness I’ve seen so many times replaced with something else. Then he kneels before me, his hands gripping my hips to steady me as his tongue replaces his fingers between my legs.

“I could drown in your scent.” His lips dance across my most sensitive parts. “In your sweet taste.” His tongue slips between my lips when he kisses my clit.

I gasp, hands flying to his wet hair as pleasure courses through me. This, too, is different from the urgent, almost punishing pleasure he’d given me earlier. This is deliberate, patient . . . building rather than demanding.

“Damien,” I breathe, my head falling back against the shower wall as his mouth works me with expert precision.

“Such a delicate pussy.” He leans back on his heels to look up at me, his thumb continuing to tease me. “Eve . . .” My name sounds so good in his voice, it almost sends me over the edge. “Look at me.”

I move my head forward, my eyes meeting his. My hands are still tangled in his hair, my breath coming out in pants. He grabs my hips, sliding me over a few inches so my back is against the wall. He bends my leg, placing my foot flat on the marble seat next to me so I’m wide open for him.

“So fucking delicious,” he growls as he leans in, running his tongue deep inside me.

“Yesss,” I hiss, my hips beginning to move in rhythm with his tongue as he penetrates me.

He hums against me, the vibration sending new waves of sensation through my core. His hands slide from my hips to my thighs, encouraging me to widen my stance as his tongue delves deeper.

My release builds slowly, inexorably, until I’m shaking with it, crying out his name as waves of pleasure crash through me. Damien stays with me as I ride it out, slowing his touch as the aftershocks ripple through my body.

When he rises, his eyes are dark with hunger, but his touch remains controlled as he guides me out of the shower. He wraps me in a towel large enough to be a blanket, drying me with the same attentive care he’s shown since we arrived.

As he dries my back, his lips find my neck again, this time pressing a kiss just below my ear. “You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice rough with desire.

Before I can respond, he turns me to face him, lifting me onto the marble counter. The cold stone against my heated skin makes me gasp, but the sensation is quickly forgotten as Damien steps between my thighs, his hardness pressing against me.

“I want you again,” he says, his voice a low rumble that I feel more than hear. “I need you.” The last part is barely above a whisper.

“Take me.” I sound like I’m begging, because I am. Because the way my body responds to his touch is like nothing I’ve experienced before. It’s like I’m under his spell, completely at his mercy.

“This time isn’t punishment or anger.” He kisses my lips softly as he presses himself against me. “Do you understand why I had to do what I did to you earlier, Eve?”

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