Page 68 of Somewhere I'll Find You
Julia shook her head, confused by his anger.
Damon's fingers tightened on her jaw, almost hurting her. “You're going to choose this, aren't you?” he said through his teeth. “You won't be able to give it up. Tell me the truth, Julia.”
“Not now—”
“Yes, now. I need to hear the words from you before I leave.”
“How wouldyoureact if I asked you to sacrifice everything for me?”
“Is that your answer?”
“I'm not even certain what the question is,” she cried, trying to pull free.
“I want you,” he muttered.
“But only on your terms.”
“Yes, on my terms. Taking my name, living in my home, sleeping in my bed each night. I want you to be mine with no limits…every part of you…every thought, every word you speak…”
Julia's struggles ceased suddenly as she felt his mouth on hers, the heat of his lips and tongue robbing her of breath. It seemed that he was trying to brand her with his kiss, imprint her very soul with the force of his jealous passion.
His arms were hard as they closed around her. Roughly his hands gripped the curves of her body, his head bending over hers until she arched against him. She didn't want to respond, but the wildness rose inside her until she submitted with a sob of despair.
Her hands reached around his neck, fingers clenching in his dark hair to hold him close. Damon made an urgent sound in his throat and cupped his hands over her buttocks, lifting her high against him. “You are mine,” he said against her throat, teeth and bristle scraping her soft skin. “You'll never be free of me, no matter what you do.”
She only half-heard the words, her body straining desperately against his, seeking the pleasure that only he could give her. His palms slipped up to her bodice, catching the edges of the fabric and spreading them wide until the laces slid free. Pushing her chemise down, he sought her breasts. His warm fingers curved beneath their tender weight, his thumbs passing over her nipples. Gasping, Julia offered herself to him, her mouth open beneath his, her breasts impelled into his hands.
He urged her against the dressing table and lowered his head to her breast, drawing the tight peak past his lips, against the flat of his tongue. Holding on to him for balance, Julia clasped his taut body between her thighs, her arms locked around his waist. Damon turned his attention to her other breast, licking and tugging at the rosy crest. Julia was trapped between desire and denial, knowing that the closeness she craved so desperately would be her ultimate undoing.
“Please stop,” she said between the rasping breaths that were torn from her throat. “Please…I don't want this.”
At first Damon seemed not to hear her, his attention focused on the ripening promise of her body, his mouth moving hungrily over her skin. She pushed at his chest and head, tentatively and then with greater force, until the embrace was broken. His gaze bore into hers, hands coming up to hold her head steady. “I'm going to London,” he said thickly, “and then I'm coming back for you.”
“No—”
“I'll never let you go. Not until you can look into my eyes and tell me that you don't love me…that you can spend the rest of your life without needing this…without wanting me.”
Her lips trembled, but she couldn't make a sound.
The opening click of the door, as quiet as it was, made them both start in surprise. The maid, Betsy, stood in the doorway with a basket of clothes. “Oh,” she said, her eyes round as she beheld Julia's visitor.
Damon moved in front of Julia to hide her from view while she fumbled with the laces to her bodice. “Excuse me, Mrs. Wentworth,” the maid murmured, and disappeared at once. The door shut firmly behind her.
Flushing, Julia continued the effort to restore her clothing, while Damon watched intently. “Please don't come back for me,” Julia said, avoiding his gaze. “I can't see you for a while. I need time to think.”
“You mean you want time to convince yourself that things can go back to the way they were before we met. It won't work, Julia. You'll never be the same…and neither will I.”
“You'll make it impossible for me to act. I won't be able to concentrate on anything.”
“I'll return soon,” he insisted, “and we'll settle things once and for all.”
Julia didn't move as Damon left. She leaned against the dressing table for support and let out an unsteady breath. It seemed that she had finally lost the tight control she had maintained over her life ever since leaving home. She thought of the papers her father had given her, the key to her freedom. Did she have the courage to use them? She hated the paralysis that had come over her, the fear of losing Damon almost as great as the fear of giving herself to him.
Slowly she undressed, letting her costume drop to the floor in a heap. “Mrs. Wentworth?” came Betsy's voice, accompanied by a timid knock.
“Yes, come in.”
The maid's face was stained with a blush. “I'm sorry about interrupting before, ma'am, but I didn't know—”
