Claim Me(23)

Over and over, more and more, building and building until finally the tremors in my body build to a crescendo that breaks like a wave over me.

I ride it, letting my hips shift as I glide over the cord, concentrating on the feel of Damien’s mouth tight on my breast. It is explosive and raw and I gasp as it builds, and then sag with spent pleasure when the orgasm inevitably fades, and I am left grinning in the heady glow.

Slowly, Damien tongues the last bit of chocolate off my bare skin. Then he gently helps me put my arms back through my sleeves. “So tell me, Nikki,” Damien says, his voice soft and seductive. “Did you enjoy your dessert?”

“God, yes.”

“Do you want more?” he asks, as he tugs off my blindfold.

I blink and breathe in the sight of him, my beautiful Damien with just the slightest smudge of chocolate in the corner of his mouth. I lean in and kiss it away, using the tip of my tongue to taste those last sweet drops.

“No more than that,” I breathe. “Now the only thing I want is you.”





4


There is no traffic on our return to Malibu, and Damien takes advantage of the empty highway, driving like a demon up PCH and then along the curving roads of the Malibu canyons.

He manages to make the jaunt in less than twenty minutes, which is probably both a record and proof that the folks at Bugatti haven’t misrepresented the car’s zippiness.

Despite the shortness of our trip—and even despite the thrill-ride quality of the drive itself—it is the longest twenty minutes of my life.

Now we’re in the house, and Damien is slowly—achingly slowly—drawing the cord out from under my outfit. The waistband of the skirt is snug, and that provides some resistance, so that as the cord slides between my ass cheeks and over my sex, I have to bite my lip so as to not cry out against the growing power of the sensations building within me.

“Damien,” I murmur. It is the only word I can manage. We are standing in the barren foyer of this unfinished house. The room is huge and empty and even my breath seems to echo. Behind us, the front door still hangs wide open.

I’m not really caring about any of that. At this moment, in fact, the hard marble floor is looking pretty damned appealing.

I meet Damien’s eyes, and I see my own desire reflected back. This night has been foreplay, and it has been wonderful. But now it’s time for more. I want to be f*cked.

I want Damien.

“Take off your clothes,” he orders as soon as the cord is fully free, though still hanging from my neck.

I nod and silently comply, stepping first out of the skirt and then tugging the top over my head. As I do, Damien goes to the door and slams it shut. When he returns, I’m fumbling at the knot around my neck.

“No,” he says. “Leave it.”

He bends to my feet and unfastens the tiny buckles around my ankles. I sigh with relief as I step out of each shoe in turn. The marble is cool beneath my feet, and considering how much desire has heated my body, I’m surprised that steam doesn’t rise up from the floor simply from the contact.

I am naked now, with only the cord around my neck, and he is still fully dressed, his clothes not even wrinkled. That simple reality only excites me more.

I am aware of everything around and within me. The heat from Damien, standing only inches from me. The quick beat of my pulse in my neck. The quickening of my sex, so desperate for his touch.

Our eyes meet, and I gasp. I expect the desire I see there, but I am done in by the rest of it. By the raw emotion. By the desperate longing that he isn’t even endeavoring to hide.