I held my breath as he unfastened my jeans and slowly pulled them down. When they reached my ankles, he carefully lifted one of my legs to remove them and my shoe, his rough hands travelling up my calf. He repeated the process with my other leg. It was a tender act, again at odds with everything else.
He stood and gestured to the bed. “Lay down on your stomach.” After I did, he grabbed something from his nightstand before kneeling on the mattress next to me. His fingers brushed the sides of my hip as he hooked them in my panties and began pulling them off, the lace abrasive on my raw cheeks.
I started to sit up, but he stopped with my panties just below my ass.
Not like he hasn’t seen it before.
The scent of vanilla filled the air as he rubbed something on my ass. It was soothing—the smell, the rubbing, and the cream itself. His hands dipped into my panties, rubbing lower to soothe the bottom of my cheeks. Instinctively, I spread my legs, and his hand slipped between my thighs.
I wasn’t sure what I wanted or what I was feeling beyond the physical. But the physical was enough because I was feeling a lot of that.
And I wanted even more.
His finger barely grazed me, but his sharp inhale meant he must’ve felt the wetness that coated my outer lips. He paused like that for a moment before pressing his thick finger between them. It was a quick, teasing touch then he was moving his hand away to resume caressing my only slightly tender bottom. Pulling my panties back up, his hand rubbed over the fabric, inching down to trace the wetness soaking it.
“Sit up.” His eyes followed my every movement as though there’d be a test on it later. Once I was sitting next to him, he reached out to tuck my hair behind my ear. “Does that feel better?”
Surprisingly, it did. There was an ache, but it wasn’t unpleasant. Just… different.
I didn’t want to delve too deep into any of that, even to myself, so I just nodded.
He gave me a short nod. “Good.”
Needing to break the moment, I took advantage of his tenderness by holding out my hand and asking, “Can I have my keys now? I have to get ready for work.”
In a blink, the hardness was back in his midnight gaze as he stood. “I told you, you aren’t going.”
“I have to.”
“I said no. Drop it.”
“Are you out of your mind?” I held up my hand. “Don’t answer, I know you are. That doesn’t change the fact I need to work as much as I can before I mo—”
“You aren’t moving. Do you hear me?” His already deep voice lowered as he rumbled, “You’re never leaving me, Eden.”
Maybe I should’ve been scared. Definitely angry. Disgusted or outraged, rolling my eyes at his outlandishly possessive claims.
But as his voice thundered around me, the warning of a storm approaching, all I wanted was to strip naked and dance in it.
Before I could even think about how fucked-up that made me, he gripped my hand and pulled me to stand. His fingers speared into my hair, holding my head as his lips crashed down on mine, demanding and raw.
Desperate.
My hand went to his shoulder, the other clutched his shirt at his side. With one little push, I could end the kiss. I knew it, down to my bones. I had the power to end it all.
But I didn’t.
Because there was so much sizzle and crackle, my body thrummed with it.
The kiss spiraled until it toed the line between wild storm and uncontrolled hurricane. If it were up to me, I’d have leapt over the line without thought to the consequences—and there’d have been many.
Which was why it was probably a good thing when Damien cut off the kiss and the brewing storm. Keeping his face lowered to mine, he held eye contact. “You’re mine, Eden. And no one sees what’s mine but me. Never again. Do you understand?”
“No,” I whispered honestly.
“You will.”
If I stayed caught in his orbit, my mind muddled by lust and all things him, it wouldn’t even matter if I understood—I’d go along with whatever to feel the rush. The sizzle and crackle.