Winner Takes All (A Full Length Erotic Romance Novel) (18 page)

“I try to be.” She walked toward him, aware of his eyes following
her every step of the way.

His eyes missed nothing. Not her upswept hair, not the press of
her nipples against the green silk, and certainly not the way her hips rocked
from side to side in those high heeled shoes. His gaze devoured. Complimented.

“You take my breath away,” he said. “I’m so lucky to have you in
my life.”

The effect of his words rushed through her, made her heart beat
fast, made her feel full enough to burst. When she reached him, he lifted her
hand to his mouth, kissed her knuckles. She trembled at the touch of his lips,
the warm look in his eyes.

“Yes, you are lucky,” she murmured with a teasing smile. “Who else
would put up with all those bad qualities of yours?”

“Ah.” His eyes twinkled with amusement. “Indeed. You must be
rewarded for your perseverance and sacrifice.” He slowly released her hand then
pulled her close.

“If you insist.”

He drew her even closer as the smile fell away from his face.
“Thank you for this.” He whispered the words into her temple, kissed her
quickly on the lips then drew away. “Sit, please.”

At the massive table, he’d had places set for just the two of
them, directly across from each other. On a wheeled kitchen cart nearby, four
covered plates waited.

“I had the chef make up some of your favorites. And mine too, of
course.” He gave her a wicked grin. “So I hope you enjoy the meal.”

“I think I will,” she said as she draped the white napkin across
her lap.

Damien went to the cart and began attending to their meal. He
revealed a platter of golden seared scallops that he served on a bed of
butter-drizzled grits with a side concoction of wilted spinach, raisins, cherry
tomato slices, and sesame seeds. Sasha’s lips parted in anticipation as he lay
out the delicious looking feast then sat across from her. The candlelight
flickered over his beautiful face as they ate and talked, sharing what had
happened in their lives that day.

The simple pleasure of it, the meal and the man and the
conversation put Sasha completely at ease. Made her wonder what it would be
like to have something like this for the rest of her life. She gasped and
almost choked on her wine.

No. No, she could never ask that of Damien. She realized how
unfair it was for her to think this way. Permanence was not for them. She’d
already determined that whatever it was that Damien could offer, she would happily
accept and enjoy. Already, what they shared was more than she could have
dreamed.

The lurking nightmare of her brother was the only thing that made
her uneasy. As she ate the food that Damien’s staff had prepared and basked in
the warmth of his company, a small part of her worried just how long even this
could last. She had to tell him about James, she had to try and rid herself of
the nightmare.

After what happened with Vincent and the roller-coaster drama of
everyone reacting to her affair with Damien, she had blessedly forgotten about
her brother and his cruelty, how he was slowly decimating her life. That
forgetting had been a blessing.

“You’re looking very serious,” Damien said as he cleared away
their main dishes, stacking them neatly on the kitchen cart.

“Am I?” She sat back in her chair, dabbing at the corner of her
mouth a napkin before replacing it in her lap.

He raised a mocking eyebrow. “I don’t know you as well as I’d like
to, Sasha. But even the most obtuse man can see the downturn of that lovely
mouth.”

“Let me get rid of that downturn then.” She forced a smile. “What
I was thinking about isn’t important right now. Not with all this delicious
food and wonderful company.” The forced smile became less so as she watched
Damien prepare their dessert, a delectable looking concoction of fried figs and
honey. “You do this so well,” she said. “I’m surprised you didn’t have one of
your staff stay and do this for you.”

“I want you all to myself tonight.” He put the small plate of
halved figs in front of her. “Besides, it’s a pleasure for me to serve you like
this.”

The way he said the words made her breath catch. She looked at him
through her lashes, a smile touching her lips. “It’s a pleasure to be served,”
she said.

He chuckled. Still standing near her shoulder, he reached for her
plate, slid a finger into the damp, honeyed cleft of the fig, and brought it
toward her lips. She opened her mouth for his finger, sucked the sweetness from
it. His lashes flickered low over his eyes as she tongued his finger.

“I had these made especially for you. I hope you like them.” He
took his finger back and licked away any remaining sweetness, then went back to
his chair. “Eat.”

Using her fingers, Sasha put one of the figs into her mouth. She
chewed. The figs were soft, sticky, and sensual. The pieces melted on her
tongue with a sinful sweetness that made her moan in surprised pleasure.

“You like?”

“Very much,” she said.

“Good,” he said. “It pleases me to please you.”

Despite all the things they’d done together, all the things she
knew they would do again, Sasha blushed at the suggestiveness of his tone. She
bit her lip, overwhelmed by the incredible urge to kiss him. Her hand reached
for another fig instead.

They finished the rest of their meal in delicate flirtation. Sasha’s
senses swirled as she felt herself unexpectedly seduced by her lover. The
specially prepared food, his words, whatever else he had in store for her, it
surprised her, pleased her as he’d intended. When Damien had first mentioned
wanting her to spend the night at his house, she thought they would go to a
restaurant in downtown Louisville, come back to his house, and make love,
sleep, wake up and carry on with life as they had before.

But this? The evening spoke to a care and thoughtfulness that made
her melt. Made her fall even more in love with him.

No man had never made her feel so special, so desired, so worthy.
How could she hope to settle for another man after this?

At the thought of moving on from Damien, at their relationship
ending, she winced. Something this wonderful had to end sometime. She’d said it
to herself many times over since they began. And she suspected that the end
would come soon. With a determined clench of her jaw, she shoved the morbid
thoughts away. No matter how true they would prove to be, they did not belong
on a night like this.

After they finished with their dessert, Damien took the rest of
their plates away, wheeling the cart back to the kitchen while she sat the
table feeling satisfied but not stuffed. The meal had probably been the most
delicious and perfectly prepared one she’d ever experienced. And the
presentation hadn’t been bad either.

“Time for your second dessert.” Damien came quietly through the
door to stand near her chair. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece
of red satin. “Stand up.”

She stood. He touched her stomach, his hand warm through the silk
of her dress. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

Damien fingered the red satin. “Why?”

Because I love you.
“Because you trust me. Because
you have proven yourself worthy of my trust.”

For a moment, he said nothing. Did nothing. Then he simply nodded.
Slipped the cloth over her eyes and tied it. The cloth smelled faintly of
tobacco and sandalwood. It was soft against her face, a delicate and barely
discernible weight. “Come with me,” he said.

While she stood trapped in darkness with only her other senses to
steer her, he put one hand to the small of her back while the other held her
hand. Damien guided her from the dining room, through the hallway where the rug
muffled the sound of their footsteps. She could hear the sound of his quiet
breathing, smell the faint spice of his cologne or aftershave. Warmth bathed
over her face from the overhead lights in the hallway. Coolness from the
quietly churning air conditioner brushed over her skin.

“We’re going up the stairs now,” he murmured.

She stumbled at the first step, but he stopped her from falling,
guiding her up the stairs with gentle words and the steadiness of his hand on
her back. The rug was soft under her high heels, strangely comforting even in
the dark. If she fell from her lover’s grasp, it would cushion her, wouldn’t
it? The ridiculous thought made her smile. Made her realize that she was a
little nervous at least. Not scared he would hurt her, but rather a rough
anticipation of what was to come.

“Last step,” he said.

At the top of the stairs, they made the familiar turn toward his
bedroom, walked a few steps. Then stopped again. She heard the click of the
door opening, felt a faint breeze as he pushed the door wide enough for them to
walk through.

“Stand here and don’t move.”

She heard the door close, felt him walk away from her to go deeper
into the bedroom. Behind the blindfold, she kept her eyes closed, breathing
deeply, feeling the excitement trip across her skin. The shifting of cloth, a
drawer opening, something small but heavy falling on the bed, his deep
breathing. These were the things she heard as she waited for him. Her body
trembled with eagerness for what was to come. An electric current of arousal moved
through her body. Her clitoris tingled.

Then she felt him move close to her again. His breath whispered
against her cheek, then at the back of her neck, his hands on the ties of the
blindfold. The satin slid free of her face. She opened her eyes.

And drew a surprised breath.

The room was ablaze with candlelight. The windowsills. The bedside
tables. In the fireplace. On the mantle. Light everywhere. Filling the room,
flickering like a thousand fireflies. Damien stepped from behind her. She
nearly stumbled from the beauty of him. Naked. Muscles rippling in the light.
His chest, sculpted and beautiful. The hard landscape of his stomach, his lush
pubic hair. Sasha swallowed. He was ready for her, his cock wonderfully hard,
arrowing up from the thatch of blond hair. And a ring? Yes. He wore a silver
ring tight around his penis and balls. Her eyes flew to his face.

He smiled. “Get undressed.”

She immediately lowered the zipper down the side of her dress,
stepped out of it, draped the green silk over a chair. After a confirming look
at him, she pulled her thong panties down her hips and off her legs to join the
dress. Wearing the high heels and the hairpins keeping her French twist in
place, she turned to face him.

“Beautiful,” he murmured.

Damien touched her, tracing a line from her chin, down the center
of her chest, down to her navel. Then lower. She quivered as his fingers moved
through her neatly trimmed pubic hair to touch her clitoris. Although she had
been watching his every movement, she jumped when his fingers touched her most
sensitive place. Then he dipped lower still to sample the wetness he seemed to
know would be waiting for him. A finger swirled inside her wet pussy, then
retreated. She licked her lips.

He took his hand away, stepped behind her. He touched her again,
from the back of her neck, tracing the sensitive line of her neck, between her
shoulder blades, down her back to the crack of her ass. And between. She gasped
as the finger that had been inside her pussy pushed into her ass. Deep. Deeper.

Her entire body trembled in arousal at being taken this way again
after what seemed like so long. She wanted to touch her clit, to accompany the
smooth and almost delicate movements of his finger in her rear, but she didn’t
dare.

“Very nice,” he murmured. Slowly, he pulled his finger from her.
“Now. I want you to go to that wall—” He gestured to the space near his bed
between a landscape painting and one of the room’s many windows. “—and put your
palms flat against it. Spread your legs. Don’t move. And unless I ask you
something, don’t say a word.”

She did as he instructed. Hands flat to the wall. Her ass tilted
up. Her legs spread. Forehead to the wall. Although she desperately wanted to
look at him, she kept her gaze lowered. She wanted to look at him. She wanted
to touch him. She wanted him to touch her.

Long moments passed. She heard him walk toward the bed, then his
bare feet padding across the thick, Persian rug to her. His breath brushed
against her shoulder, heating her.

“If it hurts more than you can stand and you want me to stop, just
say the word ‘Sunshine’. Do you understand?”

She stiffened in surprise. He’d never told her this before. And
he’d never hurt her more than she’d wanted before. But.... “Yes. Yes, I
understand.”

“Good.”

She heard the snap of something behind her - a bottle cap? - then
felt his fingers squeezing and caressing her ass. A light, almost hypnotic
motion that was the very opposite of pain. Instead, the motions were delicate
and arousing, leaving her body tingling under his touch, her sex getting wet
and wetter. Heat pulsed between her legs. Juices trickled down her thigh and
she bit the inside of her cheek to force herself to keep still. His fingers
slid between her ass cheeks. They were wet! Slick with some sort of oil.