Secrets to Hide 2: Naughty Little Christmas (14 page)

“Easy, sweetheart. It’s gonna be okay.”

A slightly hysterical laugh escaped without her permission. “It’s not like I don’t know what I’m doing, Damien. Really. This is no big deal.”

She found herself facing him before the last word left her mouth. The set to his lips was visible even in the dim light from the open bathroom door, and it wasn’t happy. Maybe she should’ve kept her mouth shut.

His words confirmed that thought. “If you think I’m going to pussyfoot around like you’re some simpering innocent, think again. I am far too hungry to even consider that road, but neither am I willing to downplay what we’re about to do together. Whether it’s your first time or your hundredth, it’s your first time with me, and contrary to what I’ve thought with every other woman in my life, this means something to me.”

Despite her refusal to compare herself with Sonny earlier, some small, hidden place in Harley relaxed, knowing she was the exception to the rule. Sex was sex. What they shared might be too new to name, but it wasn’t
just
sex.
“This means something to me.”

The pinched set of Damien’s mouth softened, and he speared a hand through her hair, holding her still. “I’ve already made enough of a fool of myself,” he said with a glance down at his pants. “I don’t think I’ll worry about a little emotion. That’s just the way we are together, and I like it. A lot.” Leaning in close, his breath warm across her cheek, he tightened his hand until her head was in perfect alignment for a kiss. “How about you?”

Gratitude welled quickly until she worried she wouldn’t be able to get out the words she wanted to say. Damien was just the right mix of gentle and
who gives a damn?
He matched her perfectly, so perfectly she didn’t think she could’ve asked for more. She gathered up what little boldness she possessed and opened her mouth to run the tip of her tongue across the tempting curve of his lower lip. Breath mingling with his, she whispered, “I say we go for it.”

Damien growled. She loved it when he growled. She wanted to feel that rumble of sound against her neck, her nipples, her clit. She wanted it so badly she had to squeeze her thighs together to stem the flow of cream suddenly trickling from her body. A useless effort, it seemed, because Damien gave her a hard, quick kiss, then stepped back, his hands going to the buttons of the black silk shirt he’d put back on before they exited the car. Just the knowledge that bare skin was coming turned the trickle to a sudden gush.

“You too, sweetheart,” Damien told her, his breathing fast and loud in the room. “I want to see what’s beneath that sexy dress. Take it off for me.”

“Uh-uh. You first.” But she cupped her breasts in trembling hands and lifted, showcasing the full mounds, pinching the aching nipples, silently urging him on with her own display.

Damien’s breath caught, his gaze intent on her breasts, but he complied…one torturously slow inch at a time. First a sexy strip of skin bisecting his torso. Then the gorgeously smooth curves of his shoulders, broad and beautiful, making her mouth water for a taste of him. A dark triangle of hair crossed from one defined pec to the other, narrowing to his belly button and then disappearing beneath the waist of his pants. Harley fixated there, on the single button holding the material closed. She quivered with the need to help, to tear the cloth from his body, drop to her knees, and feast. But she didn’t, not yet, because she wanted this to last as long as it possibly could.

“I think,” Damien said huskily, his finger tapping the skin just below his navel, “that we need a little tit for tat here. Literally.” He lifted one dark brow, his eyes flashing with a wicked light. Harley couldn’t get enough air into her struggling lungs when that look fixed on her. A whimper escaped, drawing a small, sexy grin from Damien. He shook his head. “Come on, sweetheart. Show me whatcha got.”

She wasn’t sure how she managed it, but one minute her hands were supporting her breasts, and the next her dress pooled around the belt that cinched her waist and her nipples were squeezing tight in the chill winter air. Damien stepped toward, gaze devouring the firm, round mounds, then forced himself to stop short with what seemed like sweat-inducing effort. His deep, steadying breath lent her some strength too. But not enough, because he quickly unbuttoned and unzipped, allowing his pants to drop to the floor.

He was commando.
God
. Preorgasmic ripples tore through her womb at the sight.

“Drop the dress, Harley,” he commanded.

As he toed off his shoes, she complied, and by the time he was fully naked, she was covered only by the tiniest thong in her wardrobe. Her hands went to her lower belly, pressing automatically to try to still the aching throb the sight of him engendered. “Damien…” She took her first step, then another, closer and closer, until they breathed the same air. Until Damien’s beautiful cock, straight and hard and pointed directly at her like a homing device, brushed the skin of her stomach.

Damien hissed. Harley glanced up from under her lashes to see his face twisted with what appeared to be pain. His shaft pulsed against her, and she lowered her eyes, watching, fascinated by the clear drop of precum that appeared in the slit gracing the very tip of his cock. Her hands fluttered at her sides, wanting to touch, afraid to do the wrong thing. Now she understood the pain she’d seen on his face.

Voice hoarse with need, she had to ask, “Please, Damien, let me taste you?”

His erection jerked at her words. When he shook his head, she dropped hers, afraid she’d said or done something he didn’t like. What man didn’t want a blowjob?

The next moment he nudged her face up to his. With deliberate steps he moved in, bringing them together, the slide of bare skin against bare skin exquisite, breathtaking. Harley gasped, pressing closer, wanting to rub herself against him like a cat. She held very still, though, afraid of ruining the moment once again.

“I can’t let you taste me, Harley.”

Her heart sank in disappointment, but Damien’s grip remained firm, refusing her need to hide her face, her emotion from him. Instead he kept talking, and finally his words penetrated.

“I may have come at the club, but you get your mouth on me and I will never be able to wait for you. I want to wait for you. I want to feel your tight pussy clamp down around me and drown me with your pleasure before I let myself go again. Do you understand?”

A strained laugh escaped. “Who wouldn’t? Damn, Damien, you’re good at this.”

Now that was a cocky smirk if ever she’d seen one. “Believe it or not, it’s all about who you’re with.” The smirk disappeared, but the smile remained in his eyes. “You make me hotter than anything I’ve ever known. You burn me alive, Wonder Girl, and when it feels that good, I want you to feel it too.”

Oh, she did. Every time he spoke.

Holding her gaze, Damien slid his fingers from her chin, down her neck, across her collarbone. The touch was light, barely there, and still her heart jumped and a shaft of lightning shot from that whisper-soft sensation to the apex of her thighs. She let her head drop back, opening herself to him. And Damien rewarded her surrender. His fingers went lower, lower. He leaned back slightly, and then his touch was on her nipples. Her needy cry echoed between them as he pinched one taut pink tip, then the other, the roughness of his touch a sharp contrast to the tenderness of before.

Harley’s knees buckled without warning. Damien chuckled as he scooped her up and laid her out on the bed like the quintessential virginal sacrifice. That was how she felt, lush and decadent, the heat in his eyes as he stared down at her body making her want to preen for him. So she did. Arms overhead, she shifted onto her hip and stretched, loving the slight choking sound that came from Damien’s throat, the way he fisted the base of his erection so tight, like he would spill at any moment just from the sight of her.

“You make me impatient, sweetheart.”

And that was a bad thing? Because right now she felt like she was burning alive. “Promises, promises.”

There was that growl she loved.

“Take off the underwear.”

She was disappointed that he didn’t watch as she slid the silky cloth from her body. Instead Damien turned, bent down, and when he straightened she saw he had his wallet in hand. From the inside pocket he drew a foil square. A condom. Reality hitting her between the eyes. But Harley pushed thoughts of pregnancy and babies away. Between the condom Damien was sliding along his cock and the birth control pills she took, pregnancy wouldn’t be a problem. Not to mention she didn’t want thoughts of Klio intruding, for a variety of reasons.

For tonight, she could just be Harley. She could enjoy this; she could enjoy life for once instead of worrying about all the consequences, her own and others’.

Protection firmly in place, Damien put one knee on the bed and leaned in, his lips skimming her ankle. He nipped and licked his way up, a warning rumble leaving his throat every time she moved. He wanted his way. He wanted to taste her, and he did, crawling up her body until he lay full-length atop her. His heat sucked the chill from the room. His heavy weight pressed her into the yielding mattress, and she gloried in it. She couldn’t get enough of his skin against hers, the sheer breathtaking bliss of a man’s body so heavy on her. Shifting restlessly, needing more, Harley instinctively parted her legs to cradle his hips, his thick cock lining up with her slit as if it was made to penetrate her. They both groaned.

“Be still,” Damien commanded.

But oh, she wanted to move, wanted him inside her. Her breath was coming hard and fast, her need rising to a frenzied pitch. When she tilted her pelvis up, then down, smearing the wet heat of her excitement along his shaft, Damien swore and lifted his body from hers.

A whine left Harley’s throat, surprising her. She should be embarrassed; Damien hadn’t even penetrated her yet, and she was already begging. But shame was far, far away. The wild look in Damien’s eyes, the heavy weight of his stiff cock hanging between them assured her she wasn’t alone on this journey. Damien was as excited as she was; he simply had enough experience to control it.

Thank God one of them did.

“Harley, look at me.”

She obeyed that dark voice without thought, locking her gaze to his. She could feel the grimace twisting her lips as her hips lifted to him, needing him, unconsciously seeking the touch of his skin against hers.

“No.” Damien dropped a rough hand to her belly. It forced her down on the mattress, away from him, away from what she wanted.

“Damien, please!”

But his gaze held, sure and unwavering. “Watch, sweetheart.” Keeping the pressure on the lowest part of her abdomen, right above her womb, he leaned down and took one desperately tight nipple between his lips.

Harley exploded. Right there, right then, with just the feel of his mouth pulling, his teeth nipping, his tongue stroking the very tip of her nipple. She arched, her cry ringing in her ears. Damien’s hand held her down, and the pressure on her most feminine parts added to the maelstrom. She spasmed, over and over, but still the emptiness clawed at her gut until she thought she’d go insane.

She didn’t realize her eyes had closed until the last ripple shook her body. What she did realize was that Damien hadn’t released her breast. With a soft, milking suck, he drew on her, the action at once pain and pleasure. When she stilled, so did his mouth, but she didn’t want him to stop. She speared her fingers through his hair, only now realizing she had the freedom to touch him as much as he did her. The thick, silky strands slid through her fingers like water, but she fisted them, holding him to her breast with fierce need.

Damien’s mouth popped off her nipple. He chuckled. “That’s it, Harley. Take me too. Take me as hard and as thoroughly as I’m about to take you.” Despite her grip, he moved until his breath fanned her other breast. Harley watched as the softened flesh tightened, lengthened as if reaching for him, and when Damien complied, dropping down to suck the tip in with fierce hunger, she couldn’t control the arch of her back or her need to get as far inside him as she possibly could.

He devoured her; that was the only way to describe it. He worked her into a frenzy until, when his weight dropped and his cockhead settled at her weeping slit, protest or fear or denial was the furthest thing from her mind. Instead she opened her thighs as far as she could, straining the muscles to give him all the access her body would allow. She pushed under his caging arms, sliding her fingers along his sides until she cupped the heavy muscles of his ass and pulled. Her body parted for him willingly, and within three hard, exquisite thrusts, he was buried to the hilt within her, his pelvis grinding against her clit until she wailed her pleasure.

“Fuck, Harley. You’re so damn tight. Feels so good,” he whispered.

And then his mouth took hers. He drove his tongue inside, mimicking the thrust of his hips, rapid and deep. Harley planted her feet and drove her hips up, needing more, needing him pounding into her body with a fierceness that matched her own. And he did. Every withdrawal brought a groan, every thrust a shaft of pain as his cock hit her cervix, and still he wasn’t deep enough. Finally he tucked his head into her neck, scooped her ass into his hands, and ground down so hard Harley’s world sheeted white. Nothing mattered but the squeeze of climax, the rhythmic pulses, the full weight of Damien’s sweat-drenched body on hers. She didn’t care about anything but holding this man to her forever.

* * * *

Harley groaned as the blaring ring of the hotel phone on the bedside table jolted her out of a deep sleep. Damien had kept her up most of the night. The man had more stamina than an Olympic athlete. Even now, just coming out of her coma, she could feel the dampness between her legs as Damien stroked her there, teasing her clit, dipping his fingers in and out, all while she slept. He’d been curled around her, spoon fashion, during the night, but at some point he’d shifted her more onto her back and pulled her thigh over his, giving him greater access.

A second jarring ring brought Harley back to focus. Blindly she reached out, finding the phone, snatching the receiver off the base. She heard Damien say her name, and then she had the phone at her ear. “Hello?”