One Touch More (13 page)

Holy shit, the man was sex personified.

He backed up until the bed stopped him and sat down on the mattress with Tabitha settled firmly in his lap. His kisses left her breathless, his tongue thrusting into her mouth in a slow, desperate rhythm that cranked her desire into overdrive. No one had ever kissed her this way before. Each deliberate movement carried with it a sense of possession: the way his mouth slanted across hers, each flick or swirl of his tongue, the slight scrape of his teeth on her bottom lip. In no uncertain terms, Damien laid claim to her and Tabitha was more than happy to give herself over to him.

At once demanding and careful, Damien cupped her face in his hands gently, as though she were something fragile. The kisses that had been frenzied and desperate only a moment ago were now soft and slow. A savoring of her mouth that made Tabitha's head spin. She was lost to him. Lost to his commanding, quiet presence, his body, the ink that decorated his skin. A slave to his scent, his callused fingers and smooth flesh, hulking form, the tousled locks of his light brown hair and the intensity of his golden gaze. This was an infatuation Tabitha would never find her way back from. And the realization of how far gone she was sent a trickle of icy fear through her bloodstream.

Chapter Thirteen

The sweetness of Tabitha's mouth, the soft texture of her skin and silken hair, her floral perfume and unabashed desire, latched on to every particle of Damien's body. The beginnings of an addiction he knew he would never have the strength to kick.

He couldn't hold her tight enough, kiss her deeply enough. His cock throbbed in his jeans, hot and hard and so damned ready to take her. It had been such a long damned time since he'd been with a woman that he wouldn't last a minute once he sunk himself into her slick heat. Entanglements of any kind while he was undercover were a huge no-go. But in the course of a week he realized that the longer he stayed away from Tabitha, the more he wanted her. And like the drugs he'd doled out so easily to eager addicts, he couldn't stay away from her, no matter how hard he tried.

He grasped Tabitha around the waist and lifted her. Her petite frame weighed almost nothing and he set her on her feet, between his legs. Sitting up straight, he was damned near as tall as she was standing. Her expression was curious yet heated as he wound his fists in the hem of her T-shirt and dragged it up and off of her, slowly, revealing her body to his hungry gaze inch by tantalizing inch.

The fabric met the resistance of her full breasts, and when he freed them from the restricting fabric, they gave a slight bounce that forced a groan from Damien's throat. Perfect and full, the dusky nipples stood proud and erect. He freed Tabitha's head from the neck of the shirt but left the garment at her wrists. Winding the fabric, he bound her hands together and stood, repositioning them so that she lay on the bed and he stood over her.

“Don't try to free yourself. Do you understand me?”

She answered with a nod and a low moan that caused his balls to tighten against his cock. As though in prayer, Damien went to his knees before her. The thin cotton fabric of the leggings hugging her legs like a second skin cooled his heated cheeks as he ran his nose up the inside of her thigh, inhaling her scent as he went. When he met the juncture at her thighs he said, “Spread your legs.” And Tabitha trembled beneath him as she did as he asked. It was fucking torture not to simply strip the damned things from her body, but as he'd done earlier, touching her through her T-shirt, he grazed his teeth along her inner thigh.

Tabitha bucked at the contact, her back arching off the bed as she let out a quiet whimper. He repeated the action on the opposite side and she cried out, squirming as though fighting the urge to free her hands—which truly weren't bound in any sense of the word. But that was the point. It wasn't the binding that kept her arms high above her head, tangled in the T-shirt. Rather, his words and her trust in him garnered her compliance. That blind trust was as seductive as her body. No one had ever completely trusted him, and warm emotion swelled in his chest.

“Put your mouth on me.”

The words were soft and pleading and Damien sealed his mouth over her sex, marveling at how damp the fabric was with her desire and how he could taste her arousal. Through the thin barrier, he knew her pussy was swollen, wet, and ready to receive him.
Goddamn
. This moment was heaven. The sweet torture of withholding himself from her almost more than he could bear.

“I want to touch you, Damien.”

He grazed his teeth along the sensitive ridges of her sex, and she shuddered. “Not yet.”

Like he'd taken off her shirt, Damien peeled the second skin of her leggings from her body slowly. He watched her reaction carefully, noting the quiver of her breasts with each pant of breath, the way her stomach muscles tightened when his fingers curled around the waistband of her pants. He eased them over her hips, kissing the juncture where her hip met her thigh, his attention divided between the newly exposed flesh and her arms, held high above her head and still tangled in her T-shirt. Holy Christ, she was a sight to behold.

He raked the pants down over her thighs and paused as he drank in the beauty of her glistening pussy. As he teased the short, damp curls, Tabitha let out a slow sigh. A release of breath that Damien felt over every inch of his body. With a quick tug, he freed the leggings from her ankles and dropped them somewhere behind him. He placed his palms on her thighs and urged them to part, sucking in a breath as he committed to memory how she looked, spread out naked on the bed, just as he'd imagined. Damn it, he should have gone down to the lobby and bought the condoms, gossip and reputations be damned.

“You are so fucking beautiful.”

Tabitha's head came off the bed and their gazes locked. The emotion he saw in those crystal-blue depths shook Damien to his foundation. His fingers dug into her thighs and her lids became hooded as her head lolled back on the bed. Having her here, now, no matter the circumstances, was worth any risk both personal and professional. The world could fall down around him tomorrow, but tonight she belonged to him.

Most of the time, it was Damien who rattled others' nerves. Sort of came part and parcel with being a big, tattooed, scary-looking son of a bitch. But this petite woman spread out on the bed scared him more than any drug lord, arms dealer, or dangerous fugitive he'd ever kept company with. Because for the first time in his life, Damien finally needed someone. He needed
her
.

He backed away, standing for only as long as it took to strip his shirt from his chest. He wanted nothing between his skin and hers. Her lips quirked into a grin as she watched him, her hands still bound and immovable above her head. A reluctant smile tugged at his lips as he fumbled with the button of his jeans, unable to tear his eyes from her, focus on anything
but
her. He was starved to bury his face between those sweet thighs again. One taste wasn't even close to enough.

He finally managed to work his zipper down and when his cock sprang free of his underwear, Tabitha's eyes widened in appreciation as she rolled her bottom lip between her teeth. That one look was worth a thousand compliments, and it stroked his ego no small amount to know that his body pleased her.

As he moved to go back on his knees, Tabitha's voice stabbed through the quiet. “No.” He stilled, brow furrowed with worry and she added, “If I can't touch you with my hands, at least let me appreciate you with my mouth.”

“Holy shit, woman, are you trying to kill me?” The thought of her mouth on him while he lapped at her pussy was just too much.

“Not kill you.” Her voice was a husky purr that slid down his spine in a pleasant shiver. “But I do want to enjoy you.”

Damien scrubbed a hand through the tangles of his hair. “Not yet. Put your head on the pillows, keep your hands above your head, and open your legs for me.” It wasn't a rejection of her attention. Good God, he wanted her mouth on his cock so badly he was trembling with need. But when he gauged her reaction to his gentle command—her quickened breath, liquid eyes, and the slight flush of her cheeks—Damien knew that he'd made the right decision. Whether she realized it or not, she craved the domination. And he was going to give her what she needed.

Tabitha did as he told her to, repositioning herself on the bed so that her head was on the pillows, arms resting near the headboard. Her back arched slightly off the mattress as she let her legs fall open and Damien admired her for a long moment before he came around to the foot of the bed and positioned his head between her thighs.

The woman was a fucking goddess, and he was about to worship her.

The first pass of his tongue on her soft flesh was bliss, and it sent him teetering over the edge of his control. As though he'd lived his life in a state of perpetual starvation, Tabitha became his sustenance and he finally knew what it was to be full. He took his time, learning the intricacies of her body, what made her moan, and what quickened her breath. A long drag with the flat of his tongue from her tight opening to her clit made her arch off the bed, and quick flicks of his tongue caused her to writhe in his grasp, her hips rolling and thrusting to meet his mouth.

When he sucked on the silky lips of her labia, she cried out, and when he took the swollen knot of nerves at her core between his teeth, she sobbed her pleasure. “Damien! Oh God, Damien.”

He dug his fingers into the soft flesh of her ass, a pang of regret stabbing through his chest as she called out a name that was as much a part of his façade as the tattoos that graced his arms and chest. For the first time in as long as he'd been a member of the Marshals Service, he didn't want to be Damien anymore. He wanted to be Parker Evans, and that was the name he wanted on Tabitha's lips.

Amen.

 

 

Tabitha laced her fingers and clasped her palms tightly together. She'd do whatever Damien asked as long as he kept making her feel this way, and that included resisting the urge to touch him. It was like he knew her body better than she did, every pass of his tongue a deliberate motion executed to achieve a specific reaction.

A gentle flick was followed up by a long, languid pass with the flat of his tongue and Tabitha cried out, not giving a damn who might hear her. He sucked, nibbled and licked, loving every inch of her throbbing sex with his talented mouth. Tabitha released her hands and gripped the pillow behind her, clutching the fabric like a lifeline. She floated on a cloud of bliss, pleasure like nothing she'd ever experienced, and if she didn't hold on to something—anything—to anchor her, there was a pretty good possibility she'd fly right into the stratosphere.

Damien slowed his pace and soon the pressure of his mouth was gone. Tabitha thrust her hips toward his mouth, eager for him to continue, but he pulled away and blew lightly over her heated, wet flesh, causing a delicious chill that made her bones go soft.
Oh . . . God . . .

“Do you like that?” His voice was a sensual growl that vibrated up Tabitha's spine. He nipped at her inner thigh and a low moan escaped her lips.

“Yes.” The word came as a desperate whisper, thick and rough.

“Should I do it again?”

“God, yes.” She thrust her hips toward his mouth in frustration.

The pad of his finger teased her opening, the contact with her oversensitized flesh almost more than she could bear. He spread her wet arousal over her sex and blew again, the lightest breath that brought more of the intense chill that rippled over her skin like cool rain from a summer storm.

“Again?”

Words failed her. Mindless with need, all Tabitha could manage was a pleading whimper. The way he teased her was maddening. The most delicious torture she'd ever experienced. He caressed her, explored every inch of her with tender attention. Played with her. Tantalized her. A shock of heat as his mouth fastened over her sex. Blinding pleasure as he feathered the blunt tip of his thumb over her clit, just before his fingers rocked inside of her. Tabitha's body coiled, winding and turning over and around itself until she was nothing more than a constricted, quivering bundle of sensitized flesh, want, and need. Damien was going to break her apart and she welcomed the moment when he would shatter her completely.

His fingers bit into her flesh as he took her hip in his palm, his grip pulsing in time with every pass of his tongue. Tabitha cried out, her back arching off the bed and he reached up with his other hand to cup her breast, teasing her nipple with a slow roll and then a tight pinch that sent her toppling over the edge.

“Damien!” His name burst from her lips as she came, as reverent and solemn as a prayer. Wave after wave of the most intense pleasure she'd ever felt crested over her. Damien hadn't simply broken her apart. He'd obliterated her. She was nothing more than stardust, particles floating in a vast universe. This moment was unparalleled and it caused such intense emotion to roil in her chest that her heart felt as though it would burst. Even the men who'd claimed to love her had never
loved
her in the way that Damien just had. Dear God, she was ruined.

Tabitha lay still, panting through the aftershocks of what was hands down the most amazing orgasm of her entire life. Damien kissed the insides of her thighs, upward and over one hip. His mouth was a brand as it traveled across her lower abdomen, his tongue dipping briefly into her belly button. Up her torso, a light kiss to each one of her ribs and then over the swell of her breast before his mouth sealed over her nipple, sucking gently. She arched into his touch, desperate to comb her fingers through his hair and yet still unable to ignore his command that she keep her hands bound above her. Any other man would have been content to know that she'd gotten off, and would have been pounding away by now, or requesting that she return the favor with her own mouth. But she already knew that Damien was unlike any other man.

He attended her other breast with the same loving attention before kissing across her collarbone, up the column of her throat, beneath her ear—where he paused to take the lobe between his teeth before drawing it into his mouth. The deep inhale of Damien's breath caused chills to dance over Tabitha's skin as he buried his face in her hair and breathed her in. Her heart raced in her chest, on the verge of tears or laughter, she didn't know which. He was too good to be true.

“I could do that all night,” he murmured, his breath hot in her ear. “Just lick and suck and taste you. Feel you come against my mouth. Again and again until the sun rose and we collapsed from exhaustion.”

The words were so tender, a sharp contrast to the natural gruffness of his voice. Spread out beside her on the bed, his body felt even larger and more imposing. He braced himself up on an elbow and studied her with a quiet wonderment that made Tabitha's breath hitch.