The Darker Side of Pleasure (36 page)

She was so damn wet, her inner walls like heated velvet. He had to pause, to take a deep breath and command himself to calm down.

Her long legs wrapped around his back, pulling him in deep. She licked and sucked at his neck, sending shivers racing over his skin. When he felt he had himself under control, he began to move. Long sliding motions, in and out of her tight little sheath. He could hardly stand it; fucking her and trying not to come like some teenager.

But it wasn’t just fucking, and he damn well knew it.

Later.

Right now he just wanted to push into her, pull out, plunge again, simply to hear her gasps and moans of delight. He wanted to give this to her, to make her come again.

He moved faster, every thrust bringing powerful waves of sensation, making his cock harder than it had ever been in his life. Making his balls and his stomach tighten up. He loved to hear her pant, loved when she raked her nails down his back, reveled in the pain. And loved it even more when he felt the first pulse of her climax deep inside her body.

“Please, Damien. I need you. I need everything.”

He pumped harder, faster, pounding into her in a white blur of pleasure. She cried out, her sex clenched around his cock, sending him over the edge with her. And as he came, pleasure stabbing into his cock, his entire body, he looked into her eyes. And what he saw there was more powerful than the orgasm crashing over him.

He was coming so hard it hurt; it was better than anything he’d ever felt before. But beneath it all was her beautiful face, and his heart beating a million miles an hour.

His climax left him shaking. She was quivering beneath him, her arms wrapped around his neck. He was still trying to catch his breath.

What the hell had just happened? He had never had sex with a woman with whom he’d agreed not to. And sex itself had never meant anything to him beyond the momentary pleasure, not since Julia.

Don’t think about her now.

No, all he wanted to think about was Maggie. For the first time in almost twenty years, a woman was foremost in his mind, even before his responsibilities as a Dom. Christ, he didn’t care about any of that right now. All he cared about was the woman lying in his arms.

After two days, how was this even possible?

But it was the impossible, shattering truth. He was falling for her. And when he landed, he had a feeling it was going to hurt one of them like hell.

Maggie was still dizzy with the aftermath of pleasure, pleasure so intense she wasn’t sure she would ever recover. And above and beyond that physical ecstasy was the deep and certain knowledge that what had just happened between them was more than sex.

She’d had plenty of sex and didn’t regret any of it. But she’d never had sex like this. Like truly making love.

Was she a fool to think that’s what it was? No: Despite the fact that the act itself had been so primal, she could see it in the way he touched her, looked at her. Had any man ever looked at her like that? Had she ever allowed it?

The idea frankly scared the hell out of her. But she felt too good right now to take it apart, to figure out what it might mean for her. She pushed the thought away and looked up at him, losing herself in the pure, male beauty of him.

He was holding himself up on one arm, exploring her face with his eyes, stroking her cheek, her jaw. He traced her lips with a fingertip and she kissed it, not really knowing why she needed to do such a thing.

“Maggie, we need to talk.”

“Now? Do we really have to?”

“I went against the conventions of our agreement. I knew I was doing it, knew it was wrong, and I did it anyway.”

“I wanted you to. I asked for it.”

“Yes, but your judgment was compromised.”

“Never enough to do something I didn’t really want to do. Please, don’t talk any more like this. It just…dirties it, somehow.”

“Alright.”

He bent and laid a soft kiss on her lips, and immediately, her body was on fire again. She pulled his head close, kissed him hard, until she felt the tension in him melt away. His cock hardened against her thigh, making her smile, letting her know that despite being the sexual submissive, she had just as much power over him as he did over her.

“I want to do it again,” she told him. “But this time I want a little more. I want some pain while you’re inside me. Will you do that for me?”

“You know, you’re getting a little bossy. But somehow I think I can learn to live with it.”

He slid his hand down and found her cleft, his fingers sliding easily into the wet, wanting heat. He pushed inside.

“You’re ready,” he said, his voice shaking and guttural.

“Just do it. Please. I want it rough, merciless.”

“Ah, you are too perfect.”

He rolled her over onto her stomach, wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her ass into the air. With the other hand he pushed her thighs apart. He slid right in with a groan, all the way to the hilt. He was so big, so hard, she felt as though she could barely take it. But she did, and it felt damn good.

He started to pump into her right away. With each strong thrust of his hips he smacked her ass, a hard volley of slaps against her skin that she loved as much as his cock moving inside her.

She arched back into him, into his cock impaling her as mercilessly as she had asked for, into his hard and wicked hand. Pain and an almost unendurable pleasure flooded her completely, until she was weak and helpless beneath him.

But still she begged him, “Harder…please…”

He slammed his hips into the soft curve of her ass, his cock pummeling her. The first waves of climax came crashing down around her, over her, drowning her like the vast ocean. Deep inside, where the pleasure radiated, multiplied, she felt him throb and pulse. They cried out together, fell in a tumble of sated and panting desire, and held each other all night.

She woke to the rich, acrid aroma of coffee brewing. She knew immediately where she was, why she was there. And her body flooded with the heat of desire immediately just being in his bed, surrounded by his scent, by the heady fragrance of sex.

She wanted him again. But she knew they’d have some things to figure out before she let it go any further. This was no mindless, emotionless fuck just for fun. Some things simply could not go unsaid.

She sat up and looked for her clothes, then realized they were probably still in the living room. She glanced around, taking in the room while she looked for a robe or maybe his discarded shirt. But the room was spotlessly organized, other than the rumpled white sheets on the king-sized bed. She ran her fingers over the smooth fabric. Probably Egyptian cotton. Nice.

The rest of the room was just as elegant and expensive-looking. The furniture was all made of a very dark wood, simple, almost spare lines, with some unusual architectural details, like the curved front of the dressers and nightstands. The walls were painted a pale grayish blue. Everything had an air of cool calm, just like him. Interesting.

There was not even a throw blanket to cover herself with among all this spare luxury. But what the hell, he’d already seen her naked and she was never one to be shy about her body. She got up and wandered downstairs to find him.

His back was turned to her in the gray and white kitchen, one hand braced on the granite counter where a newspaper was spread out. He was wearing a pair of blue striped pajama bottoms slung low on his hips. His bare back was leanly muscled and tapered to a narrow waist, just the kind of physique she loved. Her sex pulsed in response and she found herself wanting to draw a finger over the ridges and planes of his body. Her tongue would be even better.

He turned around, coffee cup in hand, and smiled when he saw her. God, he was even more beautifully put together from the front. She’d been too frenzied to really take him in visually before. His shoulders were broad, his chest smooth and muscular with just a nice sprinkling of dark hair. Another sharp clench of her sex when she followed the narrow line of hair leading down his abdomen, into the waistband of his pajama bottoms.

His smile faded as he took in her naked figure. He tried to joke. “I should have you visit my kitchen every morning.” But his voice was graveled with lust.

He set his cup down and moved toward her.

She put one hand up. “Wait. We need to talk.”

“You cannot show up in my kitchen perfectly naked and expect me to talk to you.” He advanced on her.

“Well…”

But as he stepped closer she caught the masculine scent that was purely
him
. Her body went liquid and suddenly she couldn’t find the energy to argue.

“Come here.” He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her in close to him.

His mouth came down hard on hers, his hands sliding down to cup her ass. Lord, the man could kiss! He was inside her mouth, tasting, teasing, his tongue hot and sweet with the flavor of coffee.

She smoothed her hands over his back, lower, beneath the cotton waistband. His buttocks were taut with muscle. She pulled him in closer until his erection pressed into her belly. Not close enough. She needed him inside.
Now.

As though reading her mind his arms tightened around her and he turned, lifting her onto the counter. The granite was cold beneath her thighs, but the heat growing inside her kept her warm.

He spread her legs, took one hand off her body long enough to pull the drawstring at his waist and the cotton fabric fell away. He pulled her closer, she wrapped her legs around his back, and he entered her in one long, smooth thrust.

She gasped at the size of him while pleasure rippled over her skin, moved deeper inside. He fastened his mouth on her neck, his hands held her ass, and he stabbed deeper into her body.

She held onto his shoulders and let her head fall back while he plunged into her, pulled out, plunged again. Each strong thrust sent a thrilling pleasure into her, singing through her veins. She was panting, he was panting. He moved too fast, too furiously, for there to be any words between them. This was all hot, animal sex, an expression of the intensity of their need for each other. No words were needed.

Her climax came down on her fast and hard; the sharp, pulsing spasms started deep in her sex, in her clit, then moved outward, until she was nothing more than a being made purely of pleasure.

Only a moment later she heard his guttural groan, felt his body stiffen all over, then his hot, hard cock was ramming into her, carrying the last surges of her own climax away with his.

He pulled her off the counter, and she wrapped her legs more tightly around his waist while he held her. He kissed her neck, her lips, her forehead. She shivered at each tiny kiss, her heart pounding with exertion and emotion. And the only thought running through her mind was,
I cannot leave him. Ever.