Page 96 of The CEO

“Patience,” he says against my lips before nipping at them. Then, like nothing happened, his expression changes back. “Dinner in the greenhouse?” he suggests, his voice dropping to a register meant only for me.

“Of course.” My nerves are already giddy with excitement.

“Can’t wait. I’ll be up within an hour. Just need to finish up down here.”

* * *

After dinner, we move deeper into the greenhouse.

“I’ve missed this,” I admit, watching as Damien’s long fingers tend to a particularly rare bloom. “Watching how gentle you can be—taming your brutality.”

He lifts an eyebrow at me. “I thought you liked that about me.”

“The brutality, or the gentleness?” I play coy, slowly dragging my finger over his back as I step around him.

“Both.”

I take a seat on the bench opposite him, reaching down to slowly lift up the hem of my skirt, inch by inch.

“What are you doing?” His jaw tics, his eyes dropping down to where my hand has reached its destination.

“I want to come, Damien.” My fingers rub against the silk of my panties, my thighs falling open. Since meeting Damien, my sexual confidence has skyrocketed along with my drive. I find myself shamefully daydreaming of him bending me over the desk in my office, taking me unapologetically. “I need to come.”

“Did I tell you that you could?” He keeps the pruning shears in his hand as he steps toward me. His eyes darken as he approaches, pupils dilating so that only a thin ring of dark brown remains. When he reaches me, he drops down to his knees in front of me, setting down the shears with deliberate care, and turning to face me fully. “You’re playing with fire, Eve,” he murmurs, voice dropping to the register that vibrates through my entire body.

I dip my finger just inside my opening, letting my juices gather on the tip of my finger. Leaning forward, I drag the same finger over his lip, leaning in close enough that my breath stirs the open collar of his shirt. “Maybe I want to burn.”

The restraint shatters between us. Damien moves with predatory grace, backing me against one of the stone planters. His mouth claims mine in a kiss that’s nothing like the controlled passion we shared last time.

I arch against him, fingers tangling in his hair as I pull him closer. His hands find my waist, then slide lower, gripping my hips with enough force to leave marks I’ll discover tomorrow.

“I’ve been thinking about this all day,” he growls against my neck, teeth grazing the sensitive spot below my ear that makes me gasp. “Watching you control that room earlier . . . do you have any idea what that does to me?”

“Show me,” I challenge, already working at the buttons of his shirt with trembling fingers.

He captures my wrists in one large hand, pinning them above my head as his other hand works at the zipper of my skirt. “I intend to. Look at you,” Damien breathes, stepping back slightly to take in my nearly-naked form after tearing my clothes from my body. “Perfect. Mine.”

“Yours,” I confirm. “Now touch me before I lose my mind.”

A dark chuckle rumbles from his chest as he sheds his own clothes with efficient movements. “So demanding,” he teases, though I see the barely-leashed hunger in his eyes. “Where’s your patience, Eve?”

“I left it in the council chamber,” I retort, reaching for him. “Along with my restraint.”

His skin is hot beneath my palms as I explore the familiar terrain of his body—the hard planes of muscle, the scars that tell stories of violence survived, the tattoo bearing my name that still makes my breath catch whenever I see it.

“Need you,” I whisper against his chest, feeling his heart thundering beneath my lips. “Now, Damien.”

Instead of answering, he lifts me in one smooth movement, my legs wrapping around his waist as he carries me from the greenhouse. The journey to our bedroom passes in a blur of heated kisses and filthy confessions whispered against my skin.

“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are like this?” he murmurs. “Desperate for me, shameless in your need, begging for my cock?”

“Your fault,” I gasp as his teeth find my shoulder. “You made me this way.”

When we reach the bedroom, Damien doesn’t make it to the bed. He presses me against the closed door, his body pinning mine as his mouth reclaims every inch of exposed skin.

“I want to taste you everywhere,” he growls, dropping to his knees before me. His hands slide up my thighs with deliberate slowness, spreading me open to his hungry gaze. “Hold on to something.”

I tangle my fingers in his hair as his mouth finds me with urgency. The first stroke of his tongue tears a cry from my throat that fills the spacious room.

---