both hands and draws me to my feet. It’s easy for him—he picks me up like I weigh nothing at all. I glance up at him, our faces inches apart, and then I reach for the hem of the shirt he’s still wearing. Slowly peel it up and off him, to drop it into a pile beside the pants he already shed. He’s naked in front of me now, every inch of his sculpted muscles on perfect display, and I run my hands across his chest, his abs, his hips, unable to believe that I just made this man, this Adonis, nearly drop to his knees in pleasure with my mouth alone.
From the look in his eyes, Damon can’t believe it either. He watches me touch him for a moment in silence, then reaches down and pulls off my shirt as well, slowly and sensuously, not at all like the rough man from earlier who demanded I suck his cock for a deal.
A deal… There’s something else I should be focusing on. Another job I had to do here. It nags at me, but not hard enough to break through the fog when Damon drops my shirt to the floor beside us and unclasps my bra next, letting my breasts spring free. He reaches down to cup them with both hands, his thumbs massaging my nipples in slow circles until they harden under his touch.
“You are so fucking gorgeous,” he whispers, and standing there, before his awed gaze, I feel it, for the first time in a long time.
I step closer to him, let our torsos press together, and feel the white hot heat between us, the burn of his skin against mine. His arms encircle me almost by habit, and then creep down toward my skirt, to push under the waistband and slide down to cup my ass.
Our faces hover just centimeters apart. So close that I can feel his hot breath on my cheek, and catch the scent of him, mingled with mint now. “Tell me the truth,” I murmur. “Did you clean up for me today, Damon Tell?”
“Is that one of your questions?” he asks, eyes snagging mine. Then, without another answer, without waiting for me to respond to that, he leans forward and his lips collide with mine.
We crash into each other. There’s no other word for that kiss—for the way his mouth devours mine, hungry and wanting, and the way I swallow him right back, our tongues tangled and our lips pressed together so hard I can feel my teeth behind them, but I don’t care. He bites my lower lip, just hard enough to make me gasp, and I catch his lip between my teeth next, tease him by rolling it between my teeth.
His arms tighten around me, lift me off the ground, and next thing I know we’re tumbling sideways onto the bed, Damon on top of me, pinning me beneath his strong body, my legs wrapped around his waist as he leans in, mouth still firmly clasped to mine. We part just long enough for him to gaze down at me, a growl in his throat.
“I can taste my cum on your tongue,” he murmurs, a faint grin on his lips. “It’s hot as hell, Ashley Marrón.”
In response, I lean up to kiss him again, and his hands slide between us, just long enough to undo the clasp of my skirt and wriggle it down and off my hips. He tosses it aside, laughing under his breath when he finds that, once again, I’m wearing no panties beneath.
“Quick learner,” he says, his voice appreciative.
“It helps when you have a thing for your teacher,” I point out, grinning. But something about the moment stops him, then. He pauses, leaning over me, gaze sweeping over my body. The same hunger, same lust, is still white-hot in his gaze, but now he’s hesitating, and I don’t know why.
“What is it?” I murmur, when he doesn’t say anything for a moment.
Damon leans back, slowly, and my body aches, physically protesting the lack of his hot warmth against me. “I didn’t meant to do that,” he says, his voice different now, low and soft and filled with regret.
I push myself up to a seated position on my elbows. Then I try and fail to catch his eye. “Do what?”
He runs a hand through his hair. Grips it and tugs a little, his teeth gritted. “You should leave.”
“Leave? Now?”
“This is all getting too messy, and I’m not in