She tipped her head back to the pillow and moaned. “I can’t argue that, baby.” Her sexy Scottish hunk was a virgin! She nearly whooped with delight. “You don’t act like it’s your first time.”
“I’ve experienced little, aye, but have seen much,” he murmured as he concentrated on pleasuring her. “Pagan lovers mating inside stone circles on Midsummer Eves . . . Viking wedding nights, the harems of Arabia . . . Roman orgies.”
Pagan mating rituals? Harems? Roman orgies? “Damon, honey, I don’t know if we’re on the same page.”
“I know the difference, love, between what I saw and this. Trust me. My instincts are good.” His arms bulged with muscles as he did a push-up over her, dipping his head to kiss her neck. Then he flipped her over and bit her on the butt. She squealed, and he laughed, soothing where he’d nipped her with kisses, then tossing her over again only to enter her, thickly, deeply. Her breath caught as her back arched, and she made a little gasp of surprise. Damon’s expression shifted from astonishment to tenderness to hunger; his eyelids fell half-closed, and the softest groan of pleasure slipped out after he breathed her name. Although she could feel the intensity of Damon’s emotions pressing on her mind, all she needed to know was right here, written on his face, everything he felt being with her, out in the open.
Her belly squeezed as he pushed slowly deeper, filling her, stretching her. She was glad he was going slow. It had been a long time for her, and she hadn’t expected he’d take her this quickly. But maybe foreplay wasn’t as popular in ancient times as it was now. Then again, she hadn’t been waiting ten thousand years to “do it.” Only since college, which had sometimes felt as long.
Yet, her body was ready for him—whoa, more than ready. The mere weight of his body pressing her into the mattress had her panting in anticipation.
“Ye are my first,” he squeezed out in a harsh breath. “My first, aye, my only, and my last.” Clutching her hips possessively, he pushed all the way home, sending shockwaves clear down to her toes.
He moved slowly, at first, not hesitant but most definitely reined in. She drew her knees higher on his hips, squeezing him with her thighs, to hold him there, to hold him close. Gradually, he gained confidence with her moans of delight. And when he finally found his rhythm, it was all she could do to hold on and ride the storm.
Just when she thought it couldn’t get any better, he rolled onto his back, pulling her with him, somehow remaining deep inside her.
She straddled him, astonished, her hair tumbling over his chest. But he moved her backward so his hand could slip between their bodies. And watched her, as she’d watched his reactions earlier, his fingers dipping between her legs where she was so wet, teasing, circling, as he thrust faster and deeper. Her head fell back. “Damon . . .”
Tremors fluttered in her stomach, sharpening, hot, so hot. The quivering built to an ache that swelled until it was almost unbearable. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak. Heaven help her, she never knew it could be like this. Never knew it could be this good.
Damon touched her again, and her climax took her; she cried out, grabbing the bedsheets, as if to keep herself from flying away.
In the midst of it all, Damon went rigid and gasped her name. It seemed to go on for a long time for him, his release, powerful and intense. Then, as he collapsed in a panting heap on the mattress, he reached blindly for her and pulled her close.
Sweat dampened his skin, and hers. Exhausted, she kissed him, tasting salt, inhaling his scent.
“Ah, Harmony, love.” His deep voice vibrated in his chest, his breath hot against her ear. “Ah, my sweet angel.”
She came up on her elbow and smiled at his stunned expression. “Happy?”
“Aye . . .”
“So, it was everything you hoped it’d be?”
He let out an amazed chuckle. “If this is what it feels like to be human, lass, then I’ve but one thing to say.”
She grinned, trailing her fingertips over his lips. “What’s that?” “Immortality is highly overrated.”
Much later, they lay abed, dozing, limbs tangled after making love yet again. Damon couldn’t get enough of Harmony, but was trying to control his appetite so as not to hurt her. She didn’t seem to have suffered overly much, though, he thought with a smug smile.
He gathered her in his arms as she slept. Deny it she might, but Harmony Faithfull was as close to an angel in human form as he’d ever encountered. And he would know. It’d been many thousands of years since he’d crossed paths with the angels, and even then it was to do battle with the archangels, like Michael and Gabriel, fearsome warriors, equals to him in all ways of war. But it was the stories of the lesser angels that had always captivated him through the long centuries. Sweet, they were said to be, and mysterious, beautiful enough to bring a mortal man to tears, he’d overheard some humans say. Some of the angels were so pure of heart and intentions that they could lure a demon from the inexorable pull of the depths of Hell to the plains of the mortal world. Aye, Lucifer raged for many days after losing one of his best demon high lords in such a fashion. Pompeii was the result of that particular tantrum. Damon knew, because he’d been dispatched on assignment to do Lucifer’s dirty work immediately after. Memories boiled up:
“Unlike now,” he murmured, burying his face in Harmony’s curls. “Unlike now . . .”
Time seemed to stand still as the sun slowly rose. It reached the level of the windowsill and spilled into the bedroom, waking Harmony. “I suppose we should get up.” Her voice was thick from sleep and spent passion.
Damon pulled her close. Slid his hand down her warm belly to find her moist and hot. “Why not stay abed a while longer?”
“Mmm.” Harmony turned in his arms and they kissed, and then he loved her, slowly, carefully, savoring her. Afterward they drowsed in each other’s arms. Damon had never imagined this sort of contentment existed. This happiness. He did not want the day to arrive and interrupt it all. And apparently, neither did his lover.
They dozed a while longer until Bubba came to the bedside, whining to be let out. Since more than dogs could squeeze through the dog door in the kitchen, Harmony kept it locked at night.
Damon offered, “I’ll take him.” Naked, he flung open the door to the solitude of the backyard, scratching his chest as he yawned and waited as the dog trotted onto the lawn.
Bubba lifted his leg and did his business, but instead of returning, he darted across the lawn, barking his announcing-visitors bark.
“Who’s here?” Harmony called from the bed.
Damon squinted toward the road. “Someone’s driving through the front gate. ’Tis a large, silver boxy vehicle.”
“Is it a Humvee?” Harmony’s voice sounded a wee bit strange.
“I dinna know,” he said. “But the license plate says . . .
“Oh, no! No, no, no.” Harmony leaped out of bed, tripping in the tangled sheets as she shoved one arm into her robe and then the other. Damon’s heart sped up at her panic. “They’re here. I can’t believe they’re here. Why do these things always happen to me? I try to live a godly life, and I
Damon grabbed her shoulders and steadied her. “Tell me. Who is in that car?”
“My father. My family. They showed up one week early!”
Fourteen
After the initial burst of panic from the shock of her family’s unexpected arrival blew past, Harmony forced
