need he aroused in her? How could she fight the dizzying rush she only knew with Damon? He was kissing her into submission, succeeding with each caress of his warm mouth, inciting all her yearnings all over again.
This was every woman's fantasy, being kissed so passionately by a lover, with such devastating thoroughness. And being kissed by Damon was her own personal heaven. His lips stroked hers, playing, seducing, enticing as his tongue danced in her mouth.
When he shifted their positions on the bed and pulled her closer against his body, she could feel him-his power and strength, the sinewed length of his legs, the breadth of his chest, the hardness of him-and she had to fight the urge to melt into a liquid puddle. Her breasts felt heavy and sensitive, while a sweet, foreign ache blossomed between her thighs.
Then Damon deepened the pressure, kissing her as if he was determined to know every secret she held. Her pulse throbbed even harder at the feel of him, the scent of him, the taste of him.
At the same time, he reached between their bodies and curved his long fingers over her breast, sending sensation streaking through her.
Eleanor inhaled a sharp breath and pulled back from his magical kiss. His hand was warm and possessive on her breast, and she grasped his wrist in order to stay him.
“Damon, that is far enough,” she said unevenly.
He raised an eyebrow. “Is it? You like having me touch you, Elle.”
“No, I do
“Then why can I see the points of your nipples through the lawn of your nightdress? Methinks your body is betraying you, darling.”
She glanced down at herself. In the spill of lamplight pouring across the bed, her nipples were clearly, visibly aroused. A flush of heat rose in her cheeks. “You shouldn't be seeing me in my nightdress.”
His mouth curved at one corner. “I would rather see you wearing nothing at all.”
He reached for the small buttons on the front of her bodice and undid them one by one. Eleanor deplored her excitement at his brazenness, yet she couldn't make herself stop him. Not even when he moved his hand to the neckline. It was rash, it was reckless, it was thrilling, to have Damon free her breasts to his heated gaze.
His dark eyes caressed the pale swells as his fingers captured one pouting crest, teasing the furled bud with expert skill. Her eyelids drifted shut as a low moan escaped her… which only seemed to encourage him. He stroked and fondled her until she was aching. Yet apparently, that was not enough for him.
“I want to taste you,” he murmured, his voice a husky rasp as he bent down to her.
Eleanor made a last valiant effort to regain control of her dazed senses. “To taste me?”
His soft breath whispered against her skin. “I am hungry for you, Elle. I'll wager nothing tastes as good as you do.”
She pressed her palms against his shoulders to hold him away. “I cannot credit that, since you have a highly skilled chef.”
Damon left off his seductive ministrations to glance up at her. “How do you know what kind of chef I have?”
“Gossip.”
“You listen to the wags gossip about me?”
A faint smile wreathed his mouth. “Are you truly interested in discussing my chef just now?”
“I told you I don't want to discuss anything with you.”
“Good, then be quiet for now, love…”
He filled both his hands with her naked breasts and lowered his head. Eleanor suddenly forgot to breathe. Damon had never taken such liberties before…
His warm lips sent a sweep of sensation surging over her skin, but when he grazed her nipples with his tongue, the sweet shock made her gasp.
Then he closed his lips over one taut bud and drew it into his mouth. Her back arched off the mattress at the delicious spasm that arrowed down to her loins.
“Damon… you have to stop,” she rasped.
“In another moment…”
She didn't think she could bear another moment of his delicious torment. But he went on laving her nipple with his tongue, drawing the swollen flesh between his teeth, pulling at it with a hard sucking motion.
Eleanor gave up trying to fight him. He was seducing her, and she didn't care. Urgent longing had gathered inside her, pulsing to vibrant life in that secret place between her thighs.
She found herself clutching his head to her breast, trying to draw his tantalizing, relentless mouth closer. Desire rose even higher when she felt his leg move so that his knee rode intimately between her thighs.
She shifted helplessly at the erotic pressure, but when slowly he drew up the hem of her nightdress, she was startled enough to summon the will to pro test. “Damon… you cannot…”
With one last kiss to her breast, he raised his head. His eyes dark with heat, he gazed down at her.
“Aren't you curious about the pleasure I could show you?”
“Yes, no… I don't know.”
“I don't intend to take your virtue if that worries you.”
She winced. “I pray not. It is scandalous enough, what you are doing now.”
His slow smile warmed her even more than his eyes. “What is the saying? I might as well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb?”
“I am most certainly not a lamb, and you are a
Quiet laughter was his only answer as he slid his fingers downward, between her thighs, to lightly rest on her woman's mound.
Eleanor's breath faltered.
Those eyes held her spellbound. Those intense, beautiful, dark-fringed eyes…
A lock of dark hair fell over Damon's forehead as he stared down at her, waiting. His gaze delved into hers, shattering any resistance she had left.
“Hush and let me pleasure you, Elle.”
“Yes…” she whispered.
His searching fingers unerringly finding her feminine folds, he parted her slick flesh and touched her there.
Every nerve in Eleanor's body flared and tightened, while her breath fled. Damon had aroused her desire before with his kisses, but he had never gone further than fondling her breasts through her clothing. Until now.
His fingers moved maddeningly in light caresses over the heart of her, rimming the sleek cleft of her sex, teasing the damp bud he found hidden there. Arching against him, she shut her eyes.
When a whimper rippled from her throat, he captured the sound by kissing her again, more gently this time. His mouth shaped itself to hers, hot silk, while his warm, thrusting tongue plied with a slow, sensual rhythm, intensifying the brazen heat that was coiling inside her, centered between her thighs.
At length, her hands rose to Damon's hair and clenched in the silky thickness as she returned his kisses fervently. Her senses seemed imprinted with the scent and feel of him, with the relentless ache he made her feel. Her skin had grown hot and keenly sensitive, as if she had a fever.
A fever that only heightened as an overwhelming wave of fire began building inside her.
In desperation, Eleanor loosened her grasp on his hair and clutched at his shoulders, anchoring herself against his sinewed body. But her growing frenzy only drove Damon to increase his efforts.
He stroked her harder, more urgently, evoking a hunger in her she couldn't believe possible. She had never felt such intense sensations, such uncontrollable desire-
Then suddenly, she burst into flame-a fiery eruption that sent shuddering shocks of pleasure through every single part of her body.
When she let out a wild cry, though, his kiss deepened to drown out the ragged sounds she made.
The incredible bliss faded eventually. Stunned, Eleanor lay there a long moment, her breathing harsh and rapid. Finally she opened her eyes to stare up at Damon.
He was smiling faintly at her dazed expression, his gaze lingering on her flushed face.
