“You lie,” he said, breaking the kiss. “That’s not vengeance I taste on your tongue. It’s fear. You’re afraid of me, Skye.”
“Do you blame me?” I spit out. “You shot me. You were going to kill my father. I couldn’t stop you. You’re ruled by things I can’t compete with. Your rage trumps love, and hope, and faith. If you’ve come back hoping to pick up where we left off, I’m sorry to disappoint you. I’ve worked too hard to build a life for Sierra and myself. I won’t let anything jeopardize that. I won’t pin our future on a man who couldn’t let go of the past. I don’t need you, Damian. I don’t need anyone.”
“Liar.” His eyes raked my face. “Let’s try that again. This time without the lies.” His mouth hovered over mine, but I refused to close the distance. He laughed. One swift, forward tug and his lips were on me again, gentler this time, but I could sense his restraint. He was like a beautiful Arabian stallion, pure power and drive, reining himself in. The way his fingers trembled as he stroked my arm slowly, up and down, betrayed him. The way his entire body throbbed with a need so deep and palpable, told me he hadn’t been with a woman in eons.
My unbridled reaction took me by surprise. Even in remembrance, I had felt the intensity of his kisses, relived them, given in to the wild rush of pleasure that swept through me at the mere thought of him. It was a well-worn track that I had gone over, again and again, the feel of his tongue on that most intimate, hidden part of me, the way his muscles bunched as he moved over me, the pleasure he took in watching me come, the way his movements intensified when he was close.
And now here he was, igniting every switch in that network of erotic memories. Every single one led back to him. He was my pleasure center. Everything throbbed outwards from him.
“Damian,” I moaned as he pushed my nightgown aside and caressed my breast with tantalizing possessiveness.
He made a tortured sound as his mouth closed over a taut, dusky nipple. My body arched, driving him insane. He pulled my legs around his hips, letting me feel the full, inflamed length of him, hot and heavy through all the layers between us. We couldn’t get close enough, fast enough. My hands were tearing down his zipper, his lips were on the hollow of my throat. We were hot skin and muffled breath, void of reason and logic and consequence. He pushed my hands away, too impatient with my fumbling, and started undoing his pants, his eyes pinned on me the whole time. I knew that he was about to fuck my brains out.
“Mama?”
We jumped apart so quick, I barely had time to blink.
Sierra was standing in the doorway, rubbing sleep-drenched eyes. I couldn’t be sure what she’d seen, but she was staring at Damian like she’d seen a ghost.
He was holding a pillow over his lap, trying to catch his breath. Another second and Sierra would have caught us in a compromising situation. I fixed my gown and called her in.
“Everything all right, sweetie?”
“I thought you went away,” she addressed Damian.
“I was out of town, but now I’m back. And I’m not going anywhere.”
It was the first time they’d spoken since Damian had found out she was his daughter. Every word he said resonated with a deeper meaning.
“Did you miss me?” He smiled.
“Why were you kissing my mama?”
“You . . . saw that. Right. Well . . .” He cast a furtive glance my way.
I’d never seen Damian flustered, but that’s exactly what he was, and although I was tempted to let him flounder a little longer, I interceded.