Emboldened, she let her hand drift down, caressing the strong column of his neck and making her way to his shoulders and chest. A light dusting of hair covered his torso, making a neat triangle toward his abs. She traced the flat discs of his nipples, watching them peak the minute she got close. She let her hand move lower to his lean stomach. He twitched under her fingertips. The blanket covered him from his hips down, but it tented, his cock stretching the material up.
“Yes, that’s what you do to me.” His hands were fisting the sheet underneath him as though he had to hold on or he would reach for her and take over. “Seven months without a whisper and now he wants to play.”
He was giving her a gift, allowing her control when he needed it himself. He strained under her hands, his hips lifting when she got close.
This was why she was afraid. Because she didn’t want to stop with kisses. She wouldn’t want to stop at the end of the mission. She might never want to stop exploring Damon Knight.
“Give me more,” he demanded. “Kiss me. Use your tongue. Please, pet. I want it.”
She knew she should stop, but she couldn’t turn down his plea. There was a desperate quality to his tone that made her feel sexy, desirable. Maybe he was manipulating her, but he couldn’t fake the erection. It was difficult to believe that she was the cause, but the evidence was staring her in the face.
She lowered her head back to his and let her tongue run across his plump bottom lip, feeling her power when he shivered beneath her.
More. She wanted more. Her body was starting to sing in the way it only ever had for him. Her pussy softened, starting to pulse and get wet. She couldn’t deny it. Damon was her weakness, her odd joy, the one man who could bring her out of herself and into the world. She didn’t even want to deny it or him.
She let her tongue surge in, rubbing against his. Never before had she been so brazen, so bold, but then she hadn’t ever wanted anyone the way she did Damon.
They kissed, his tongue playing along hers, making her heart beat in a rapid rhythm. Alive. Maybe it was a farce on his part, but it was real for her, and she couldn’t let it rush by without reveling in it. Without saying yes to it.
“Let me take over,” Damon whispered, his deep voice pure seduction. “I can make it so good for you. We could be good together. So fucking good. Touch me. Touch my cock. Stroke me.”
She wanted to see it again, loved looking at him. One last kiss on his lips and she forced herself up.
“Damn it.”
She ignored him and pulled at the sheet, tugging it down. He hissed a little as his cock was exposed, but she couldn’t miss the satisfied smile on his face. He pressed his hips up, squirming a bit, like she had in the bathroom at her cousin’s wedding. Her first real orgasm. He’d given that to her. Didn’t she owe him something?
A gasp came out of her mouth as she really caught sight of his cock for the first time. Never before had she had the time to look at her lover. Peter had wanted the lights off and to get it done fairly quickly, but Damon seemed to want to take his time, to revel in it, to treat it like a leisure activity he never wanted to finish up.
His cock was a thing of beauty. Long and thick. There was a drop of pearly liquid seeping from the tiny slit on the tip of his dick. His hips were lean, with lovely notches that proved just how much he liked to work out.
“Do you like what you see?” His voice was low, a hard groan coming out of his mouth.
“You know how beautiful you are.” He had to. She was sure a thousand women had told him.
His hand came out, touching a place just below his heart. “I know I’m scarred.”
There was a red puckered place right below his heart, to the left of his breast bone. It was a nasty scar, the one that might still cost him his career. That mark was the reason he couldn’t run the way he used to, couldn’t perform in the field. He should have had a few more years, but the injury had aged him.
It hadn’t made him any less desirable. His flaws did nothing but make him more open, easier to get close to. She forced herself to look away from his cock. It was beautiful, but he was more than a hot cock. He was a man who’d been hurt, who had the same strengths and weaknesses as everyone else, who needed more than just sex even if he wouldn’t admit it.
She ran her fingers across his scar. He’d almost died. She couldn’t imagine what he’d gone through. His best mate had walked in and calmly put a bullet in him. He’d been forced to endure months and months of trying to get back to normal. Everything that made up Damon Knight had been put in jeopardy. She couldn’t help but think about the picture in his office. That smiling boy and parents who loved him. He’d lost them so young. He’d been alone in the world. Only a child, but orphaned.
When her mother had died, she’d felt her aloneness and she’d been an adult. Her entire body had ached with the loss, but he’d been truly alone, a child with no one to care for him.
Then he’d opened up and his best mate had betrayed him brutally, the evidence right beneath her fingers.
Damon needed to be healed. Not from his physical ailments, but from the wounds that came from the ones he loved always leaving him.
She leaned over and pressed her lips to his scar. There was a line that moved in and out of the circle. His surgery. Someone had saved his life. Someone had pulled the bullet out of him so he could be with her right now, in this moment.
Her tongue came out to trace the scar. That scar was important. It meant he was alive. It meant he was here.
His hand sank into her hair. He held her hard against his skin. “God, keep your mouth on me. Penelope, I need it. I know you don’t believe me, but I want you. I want everything you have to give me.”
Though it was so dumb, she licked the scar, trailing over to his nipple and then giving him a baby bite.
Damon hissed and the hand in her hair tightened. “Yes, that’s what I want. I want Penelope Cash’s bad girl. I want her to fuck my cock. I want her to crave me.”
She already craved him. Bad girl. Good girl. Everything Penelope Cash was wanted Damon Knight.
He was laid out for her, his big body a feast for her senses. He released his hold on her hair, giving her some freedom to explore. She let her palms roam across his chest as she kissed her way down. He’d given her something the day before. He’d taught her that she wasn’t cold or frigid, that sex could be good with the right partner. She wanted to return the favor.