Sound of Madness A Dark Royal Romance - Maria Luis Page 0,81
all I feel is the rapid thud of his heart fluttering beneath my palm.
I see you, Damien Godwin. For the first time, I see you.
This man has challenged me from the moment I awoke in Dr. Matthews’ operating room. He’s pushed at my restraints and boundaries. He’s tested the limits of my temper and loyalty. To all of England, I’m the prime minister’s reclusive daughter. To the people in Holly Village, I’m the one rallying the troops against the Priests. No one knows my soul. No one knows my triumphs.
Not even Margaret.
In life, I run the same way that I do in my dreams—forever reaching, forever grasping for that elusive something that will wipe my past clean and bring me long-sought peace. Nothing has ever come closer than waking in my bed, skin teased with perspiration from a nightmare, and hearing this man call me back to the realm of the living.
Coiling my fingers in the fabric of his shirt, I tip my head back. “Confess something first.”
His gravel-pitched reply is immediate: “What?”
“Would you say the same thing to any woman in my place? Would you tell her to get down on her knees and make you come?”
“Jesus. Rowena—”
When he cuts himself off, I steel my shoulders.
I won’t wilt for him. I won’t break for him. Regardless of whether I want to blow him or not—and, God help me, but I do—I won’t bow to him or any other man. I’m a fool to want anything with Damien to mean more but I won’t do it all if it’ll only mean less.
“Well?” I demand, smothering the tremor in my voice before it can expose the soft shell of my underbelly. “Would you?”
The hands on my upper arms squeeze then draw me hard against him. My breasts flatten against his chest, and his forefinger hooks under my chin. Firm but gentle. Calloused yet unbelievably tender. His breath mists over my lips when he growls, “You want me to confess?”
“I do.”
He hisses between clamped teeth like I’ve personally scorched him. “Then here’s my confession: I want nothing more than to put you on that desk. I want you naked, Rowena, all but those knickers of yours. I want you flicking your thumb over your nipple while I watch, and then I want you to take your hand lower and lower fucking still. I want you trembling, I want you panting. I want you so turned on that you’ll beg me to touch you.”
Oh, God.
“But I won’t,” he continues on a husky purr before I can even catch my breath. “I won’t lay a single finger on you. Not then, when you’re begging, and not even when your fingers dance across your thigh to cup your pussy. Because I want that, too—I want to watch you make yourself come.”
My legs threaten to buckle, and Damien grips me a little tighter, his mouth finding my ear. “Does that turn you on? Does it make you wet to know that I stayed up all night thinking of this very thing?”
It makes me whimper.
My head lolls to the side when his lips find the hollow of my throat, the sensation so deliciously sensual that I can’t stop myself from rocking against the muscular thigh he wedges between my legs.
“Confess, Rowena.”
“Find out for yourself,” I throw back at him.
He lets loose a ragged groan that rakes goose flesh across my skin before turning me around in his arms. His hands land on my hips, pulling me back against him, and then he brings one palm to the apex of my thighs. I’m wet. Drenched. Unable to keep quiet, a keening cry escapes me as I rise onto my toes. His hold on my hip tightens and he grinds the heel of his palm against my core.
Yes, yes, yes.
The bristles of his jaw scrape my cheek as he folds his body around mine, keeping me tucked against him. And all the while he circles his palm, so slow, so arduously, that it’s bloody torture. I cant my hips, seeking more friction, but he only snatches his hand away to remind me that he’s the one in control and I’m left . . . bereft.
Aching.
“Please,” I whisper, reaching for his wrist but finding his forearm instead, “don’t stop.”
Warmth from the sun dances across my bare toes. I’m burning, wanting for him, and with a dark groan, he brings his hand back between my legs like he can’t last another second without touching me. “I shouldn’t want you this much,”