Page 65 of Just The Way You Aren't

"That's the idea," he says with a wicked smile, guiding me backward until my legs hit the edge of the bed. "Lie back for me, Willow."

I do as he asks, settling onto the mattress as he positions himself between my thighs. His hands slide up my legs, gently spreading them wider. The anticipation is almost unbearable as he looks up at me, his expression both reverent and hungry.

"You're even sexier than I remembered," he murmurs, pressing kisses to the inside of my thigh, working his way higher with agonizing slowness. “Sweeter, too.”

"Damien," I whisper, lifting my hips slightly in invitation, "please don't tease me."

"But I enjoy it so much," he replies, his breath warm against my most sensitive flesh. Then, finally, he lowers his head and gives me what I've been craving.

The first stroke of his tongue tears a gasp from my throat. I arch off the bed, my hands flying to his head, fingers tangling in his dark hair. He groans against me, the vibration adding to the sensation as he explores me with devastating precision.

It's nothing like our first time together. Then, it was all discovery and frantic need. Now, he knows exactly how I like to be touched—where to press harder, when to ease off, how to build the tension until I'm trembling on the edge.

When he slides two fingers inside me, curling them to find that perfect spot, I cry out his name. He works me with relentless skill, his mouth never leaving my clit as his fingers move within me. The dual sensations push me higher andhigher until I'm clutching at the sheets, my head thrashing from side to side.

"Let go for me, Willow," he urges, his voice a low rumble against my flesh. "I want to feel you come against my tongue."

His words are the final push I need. My orgasm crashes over me in waves, my body clenching around his fingers as pleasure radiates outward. He doesn't let up, drawing out my climax until I'm whimpering, oversensitive and boneless.

Only then does he pull away, pressing a final kiss to my inner thigh before rising to his feet. I watch through half-lidded eyes as he removes his remaining clothes, his erection springing free. The sight of him, fully aroused and utterly magnificent, sends a fresh pulse of desire through me despite my recent release.

"Come here," I demand hoarsely, holding out my arms.

He crawls onto the bed, covering my body with his, the weight of him deliciously grounding. His mouth finds mine, and I taste myself on his lips, the intimacy of it making my heart race.

"I need to be inside you," he groans, his hips settling between my thighs. His cock presses against my entrance, and I lift my legs to wrap around his waist.

"Yes," I breathe, reaching between us to guide him home. "Please, Damien."

He enters me slowly, giving me time to adjust to his size. The stretch and fullness exquisite, even better than our first time together. When he's fully seated, he stills, his forehead pressed against mine, our breaths mingling.

"You feel incredible," he murmurs, his eyes locked with mine. "So perfect."

I run my hands down his back, feeling the muscles flex beneath my fingers. "So do you."

He begins to move, each thrust deliberate and deep. I meet him halfway, my hips rising to match his rhythm. The connection between us feels like more than just physical pleasure. There's something intense blazing in his eyes, something in the way he touches me that speaks of a deeper need.

Our pace increases, the room filling with the sounds of our need… and our pleasure. He shifts slightly, changing the angle to hit that spot inside me that makes my vision blur. My nails dig into his shoulders as the tension builds once more.

"Damien," I gasp, feeling myself tightening around him. "Oh, fuck… I'm close."

"I know," he says, his voice strained with his own approaching release. His hand slides between us, finding my clit and circling it with his thumb. "Come for me again, Willow. I want to feel you let go."

The added stimulation sends me hurtling over the edge. I cry out his name as my second orgasm tears through me, even more powerful than the first. He follows immediately, his hips jerking against mine as he finds his own release, my name a reverent whisper on his lips.

We collapse together onto the bed, a tangle of limbs and ragged breathing. He rolls to the side, drawing me against his chest, his heartbeat thundering beneath my ear. His fingers trace idle patterns on my bare back as we both drift in the afterglow.

"That was..." I begin, struggling to find words adequate for what just happened between us.

"Even better than the first time," he finishes, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "And that's saying something."

I smile against his skin. "Practice makes perfect?"

His low chuckle reverberates through his chest. "It’s a motto I’ve always firmly believed in.”

I reach down to touch him, finding him already erect again. “Yes, very firmly, evidently.”

He replies in a deep, sensual growl. “I think we may need a lot more practice.”

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