CHAPTER ELEVEN
LAINEY’S HEART THUNDERED like fists beating against drums as Damian led her from the restaurant. This was the moment she’d never dared to hope for—having him, without disguises or trickery. She might have said it was just sex, but her heart knew differently. With him it would always be more, even if she wouldn’t admit it aloud.
At least she knew Damian would look after her. He was exactly the kind of guy she’d always wanted but never chased. The kind who had his head screwed on properly, who made her feel boneless and tingly. He was the complete package, perfection in man form...well, except for his inability to loosen up. But she was going to help him with that.
His clear eyes searched her face, trying to figure her out as they walked along the boulevard. The night air was balmy against her bare arms and legs, doing little to cool the inferno inside. Focusing on the strength of his arm around her, Lainey put one foot in front of the other and concentrated on keeping her balance in her stilettos.
The world felt like it was spinning around her, due as much to the way reality had rushed back as to the drinks. They rounded the corner and walked through the doors of a fancy hotel. Damian’s face was hard, his mouth a slash across his movie star–handsome features. The hotel lobby gleamed, every surface polished and trimmed in gold. A heavy chandelier hung in the centre of the room, sending fractured light in all directions. Her eyes couldn’t focus for all the blinding, dazzling finery.
“Why are we here?” she asked.
“You said you wanted to stay the night.”
Her stomach dropped. “You’re outsourcing me to a hotel?”
Heat crawled up her neck, blooming in her cheeks. So he was happy to fuck her but he wouldn’t take her back to his place? Had she really read him that poorly?
He raked a hand through his short, black-brown hair. “I’m taking you home.”
“Here?”
“Yes, here.” He steered her away from the reception desk and toward a set of gleaming elevators.
“I don’t understand.”
It didn’t make sense. Damian McKnight didn’t live in a hotel. She and Corinna had crashed at his apartment plenty of times. He had a glorious view of Southbank and the river, a coffee machine that made the perfect cappuccino, and a couch that was softer than the clouds in heaven. He had a home. A real one.
“I live here.” He sighed and jabbed the up button with his forefinger. “For the moment.”
“And you’ve been keeping it secret?”
“Not specifically.” His voice sounded brittle. “But Corinna knows I’m a private guy, in case you’re wondering why she didn’t tell you.”
Strange. It definitely sounded like there was a story there.
An elevator chimed and the doors slid open, beckoning them inside. Mirrored walls reflected her confusion as she searched Damian’s face. But he avoided her gaze, pressing the button for the top floor. Her ears popped as they rose higher and higher, the silence only broken by the chime that let them know they’d arrived.
The hallway of the hotel was quiet, and only a few doors dotted the walls. They stopped at the first one and Damian let them in, holding it open for her like he always did. The perfect gentleman.
“Whoa.”
Melbourne’s skyline painted the windows that ran the length of the room. Lights in every colour blinked and bathed everything in a twinkling glow. Damian deposited his key card into a slot by the door and the lights came on.
The suite was larger than most city apartments. It even had a dining table and a study area. Lainey rushed forward and stood at the window, her palms pressed against the glass. The view at his old place had been good, but not as good as this. It felt as though she were suspended in midair, flying above the city and away from her doubts.
“This is amazing.” Her breath fogged the glass and she turned to find Damian watching her intently.
“It’s temporary,” he corrected, and held out a hand to her. “Come on, it’s bedtime for you, princess...before you turn into a pumpkin.”
He looked as though he belonged in this room, his crisp shirt and inky suit every bit as luxurious as the gold trimmings and soft lighting. She, by comparison, felt awkward in her too-tall heels and too-expensive dress. What was she doing here?
He led her to the bedroom, and her breath caught in her throat. Damian loosened the collar of his shirt, revealing a smattering of dark hair. She knew for a fact that it sprinkled the rest of him, too—decorating him in all the right places.
She wondered how it might feel to have the weight of him pressing her into the bed. To straddle him and watch his face contort with pleasure in the moonlight. She reached for him. Her movements were clumsy, nerves stripping away her motor skills.
He watched her, eyes wide and pupils blacker than night, while he drew a long breath and squared his shoulders. Lainey knew the signs well; she’d seen them that first time she’d tried to kiss him, three years ago. His first instinct had been to respond, but as quick as it had started, he’d pulled back. Now he looked the same, with tension bunching his muscles. She would not let Damian run, not when she’d finally found a way to make the sadness in her heart seem conquerable. Under his gentle exploration she felt renewed, alive. Safe.
“I promised myself I’d never go here,” he said.
The conflict in his voice called to her, and she wanted to kiss him until he forgot how to speak. “Too late.”
“It’s not too late for me to do the right thing.” He pulled back, breaking free of her greedy hands. “I can go back outside and we can wake up tomorrow morning and act like this never happened.”
“As if you’d be able to forget me,” she teased.
“I said act like it never happened...not forget.” He shook his head, dark hair gleaming in the moonlight. “Unfortunately, I’ll never forget.”
She drew her zip down slowly, the sound cutting through the quiet room. His eyes tracked the movement, swallowing up every inch of bare skin as it was revealed. And she was bare all the way down.
“Christ.” His muttered curse sent anticipation zinging through her as she dropped the dress to the floor and stepped out of her heels. “You were sitting there naked under that dress the whole evening?”
“Uh-huh.” She stepped forward and reached for him, brazenly drawing her fingers along his fly. “Now strip.”
This time there was no argument. He disposed of his suit jacket and popped the buttons on his shirt one by one. His bare torso looked paler in the glow of the city lights, but each muscle was defined to perfection. He was a powerful, virile, intoxicating man.
She slid her hand over his thigh and felt the muscle twitch in response. Emboldened, she ventured farther by brushing her fingertips over his straining erection, eliciting a gasp from him. His hand shot down, fingers wrapping around her wrist as he yanked her hand away.
“Lainey,” he growled. “Wait—”
She cut off his words by pulling his face down and kissing him. Hot, hard, wet. She explored him ruthlessly, revelling in the taste of him. A guttural moan reverberated in his throat, and he ground against her.
Balancing on her tiptoes, she fused their bodies together. Sighing into him, she thrust her hands into his hair and tugged. Hard. The buckle of his belt dug into her belly, and his mouth seared a trail from her lips to her collarbone, each kiss hungrier than the last. She had to have him, had to have every glorious inch of him.
The moment when the fight left his body filled her with a roar of power so loud and forceful it shook her to the bone. She had him exactly how she wanted him—without disguises. Without pretence. His shoulders dropped and his kiss intensified. It was as if the temperature in the room shot up a hundred degrees, and the air around them sizzled and popped. His fingers bit into her hips, teeth nipping at her skin. He was marking her, claiming her with his touch.
Then she was being lifted, wrapping her legs around him while he spun her. Two steps and her back met with the glass of the hotel window. It was cold on her bare skin while the front of her burned brightly, flames licking and growing with each stroke of his tongue. She traced the corded muscles in his neck, her fingertips smoothing over his Adam’s apple.
Stubble scratched at her skin as he devoured her with gentle nips of his teeth. She wanted to see the marks, to see the evidence of his desire. A shiver shot down her spine, deepening the ache between her legs.
“Put me down,” she whispered. “I want to touch you.”
“Not yet.”
He carried her to the bed and dropped her onto the mattress, settling on his knees and pressing his face between her legs. He kissed her there, swirling his tongue over her clit and wrenching a cry from her.
“You’re so fucking perfect.” He trailed kisses along the length of her heated sex, each one sending shock waves through her.
* * *
What had he done to deserve this incredible woman in his bed? He traced the sensitive curve of her inner thigh, chuckling as she bucked against him. He was going to draw it out, make her beg. He’d been hungry for so long, and she was a hot meal, a cold beverage, the light at the end of the tunnel. Every fucking cliché in the book...but it felt real. Special.
She writhed on the bed as he took his time getting to every line of her body. He drew his tongue up to flick over the sensitive bud of her clit.
Nails bit into his skin, delicious pain slicing through the fog in his head. He grabbed her hands and brought them together, easily encircling both wrists in one strong grip. He held her steady, making sure she couldn’t move to touch him while he pleasured her. Her hips lifted from the bed, pressing shamelessly against his face.
“Patience,” he said, swirling his tongue against her mercilessly. Each stroke was gentle, designed to wind her up but hold orgasm out of reach.
“You’re a cruel man, Damian.” She threw her head back. “I can’t take it.”
“You will take it.” His voice came out edgy, raw.
Familiar desire crowded his senses. He was losing his grip. Restraint was slipping through his fingers with each groan and under-the-breath curse out of Lainey’s mouth. She was a firework, ready to explode and burn them both.
He wanted to be burned. Tonight, he wanted it more than the air in his lungs.
“Damian, please.” She lifted her head and her hazel eyes caught his attention. “I’m not too shameless to beg.”
She laughed then, the breathy sound sending heat coursing through him. Her wrists tugged in his one-handed grip, but he held on, restraining her. That action alone had him hard beyond anything he’d experienced in a long time. And those smudgy, smoky, needy eyes...fuck.
He bit back the words swirling in his head. The filthy things he longed to say to her. But Lainey was someone he cared for...and you didn’t speak to princesses the way he wanted to speak right now.
“Please.” She drew the word out, long and agonisingly delicious. “I need to come.”
He plundered her without warning, so that her gasp rang in his ears for what felt like hours. He dipped a finger into her core, delighting in the way her muscles clenched around him. Ecstasy could be found right here, with a woman on the brink of an orgasm he controlled. She hovered at the precipice, body grinding and writhing and desperate for release, while he dangled her over the edge.
“You taste so sweet,” he murmured against her, breathing her in and savouring every second of it. “You’re so soft, so perfect.”
He drew the tight bud of her clit between his lips. The soft murmur of eagerness at the back of her throat swelled into a crescendo of pleasure as she shattered. He held her wrists tight, her muscles flexing as she came apart with his name on her lips.
He only released her when the last waves of her orgasm subsided and she lay sprawled on the bed, skin damp and glowing in the moonlight. Her eyelids fluttered and he crawled up on the bed to hold her. He pressed a kiss to her lips and she curled into him.
“I always knew you’d be good at that.” Her hand traced the flat circle of his nipple, fingernail scraping gently over the sensitive peak. “You’ve got a good mouth for giving head.”
He chuckled. “That so?”
“Yep.” Her hand dipped lower, cupping the bulge of his ready-to-burst cock. “Full lips, stubble for the right amount of friction...”
Her fingers wrapped around him, stroking the length of him through the thin material of his suit pants.
“I think we need to relieve you of these,” she said, a coy smile on her sweet lips.
He couldn’t strip down quick enough; if he didn’t have her now he’d burst. Need thrummed in his veins, urging him to move quicker. He threw open the drawer next to the bed to grope for the little foil packets. It’d been so long he wasn’t sure he had any left, but when his fingers brushed the telltale crinkled material he sighed with relief. He sheathed himself and then came back to the bed, his hands pressing down on either side of her head. The mattress shifted, accommodating his weight as he nudged her legs apart with his knee.
“I’ve been thinking about this nonstop since that night,” he said.
She shot him a smug look. “Even when you were telling me it was a mistake?”
“Just because I was trying to do the right thing doesn’t mean I wasn’t thinking about burying myself inside you.” He lowered his head to hers.
“And now?” Her lashes touched, lips parted and glistening in the lamplight.
“And now...if you keep talking I’m going to have to gag you, because I don’t want to wait a second longer.”
Her mouth opened as if she wanted to say something more, but it snapped shut a second later.
“Wise choice, princess,” he growled, slipping his hand between them to find her slick and needy. “Brace yourself. You’ve got me all worked up.”
He pushed into her, burying himself deep. When her hands came to his chest he grabbed her wrists with one hand, forcing them above her head. She whimpered, her sex clenching around his cock as he thrust.
Fantasy didn’t even begin to compare to reality. On the nights since the ball, when he thought of her, his mind hadn’t been able to accurately conjure how tight and hot and perfect she was in real life. She was made for him, a perfect fit. And that one crazy night in the limo was nothing compared to this.
Because this wasn’t just about her tight body or sexy, smoky stare. It was her...all of her.
Her hips bucked against his, her arms straining against his grip. “Keep your hands above your head,” he growled. “Don’t make me stop.”
He released her and her hands immediately fisted in the duvet, her knuckles white. “Please don’t stop.”
“Tell me what you want, Lainey.”
“I...” She stopped to moan as his hand came between them and found her clit. “Oh, my God. I want to come again.”
He bent his head down to her ear. “You want to come again, greedy girl?”
“Yes,” she panted, her head lolling back and forth. “I want to come against your hand.”
Sweet fucking hell.
As if it wasn’t enough that she’d been so perfectly responsive, the desperation in her voice as she told him how she wanted to come was...everything.
He applied pressure to her clit, working his hand in circular motions until he felt her clench on his cock, as shock waves raced through her, her body trembling beneath his. It was all he could take to hold on a second longer before he felt his balls draw up and he tumbled into the abyss after her.
Rolling onto his back, he took Lainey with him. Her face pressed into the curve of his neck, her breath hot against his already flaming skin. She murmured his name and an incoherent pleasure sound that washed over him like a warm blanket.
When his strength returned, he pushed up, cradling her in his arms. He carried her to the bathroom and set her down, keeping an arm around her waist as he flicked on the large tub’s tap.
“Let’s get cleaned up,” he whispered in her ear.
She nodded mutely, her body sagging into him, and her arms tucked up against his chest. In the mirror he could see the faint pink marks where he’d gripped her hard. By morning, evidence of their night together would be gone, with only memories to keep him going.
He tested the temperature and helped her into the bath, disposing of the condom before following her and drawing her back to his chest. Her head rested against him, the length of her hair swirling in the water as the tap ran. Tracing circles on the inside of her thigh, his mind whirred with tomorrow’s possible outcomes.
“Stop thinking,” she said, grabbing his hand and interlacing her fingers with his. “Everything is going to be fine.”