He inhaled a deep breath when he felt me, his hands moving to my hips before he squeezed me. His eyes opened, and he watched me kiss him, the realization quickly coming into his gaze. His mouth started to move, and he kissed me like he was wide awake, his hand moving into my hair as he rolled me onto my back. “Annabella…” He spoke my name with the sexiest tone, so much affection and desire packed into the name I’d had my entire life. He gave it a whole new meaning, made me feel sexy with just the sound of his voice.
I held on to him like we hadn’t spent the evening screwing in this bed. I wasn’t just hungry, but starving. I wasn’t just lustful, but desperate. Damien brought my body to life, thawed the ice around my heart, and made me hot like summer sun.
He kissed my neck as he pressed me into the bed with his large size. He grabbed me savagely, holding on to me like he was insane with longing. He pushed my shirt up my body so my tits could be free and then yanked my panties off like he couldn’t get me naked fast enough.
I couldn’t get him inside fast enough. “Hurry,” I whispered between our kisses, my fingers clawing his back.
He got the condom out of the nightstand, rolled it on, and slid inside me with a sharp thrust.
I moaned against his mouth as I locked my ankles together around his waist. “Oh yes…” My nails clawed at his back, and I felt my pussy clench around him, rejoicing at his return. “Fuck me, Damien.” I started to tug on his body, showing him how I wanted it. I didn’t hesitate to tell him exactly what I wanted, didn’t feel insecure issuing orders like a drill sergeant.
He seemed to like it. “Yes, Annabella…”
The next morning, I woke up alone.
He’d slipped out before my eyes opened. He didn’t say goodbye, walking away like a cliché. I preferred my dates to leave once the fun was over, but I didn’t mind Damien sticking around. That was probably why I was disappointed.
I got out of bed and headed to the kitchen.
Damien sat at the small dining table with a hot cup of coffee in front of him. He was dressed in the outfit he’d worn the night before, a dark t-shirt with his denim jeans. His hair was less messy, like he’d fixed it with his fingertips in the bathroom. He was absorbed in his phone, his thumbs quickly typing a message.
I felt the smile creep onto my lips as I grabbed the coffeepot and poured myself a mug.
When he heard me, he set his phone down and looked up. The shadow on his jawline was more prominent in the natural light flooding through the open window. Steam evaporated from his mug and drifted to the ceiling. He stared at me with a controlled expression, taking in my features as if it were the first time he’d really looked at me.
I sat across from him. “You’re still here.”
“Disappointed?”
“No. The opposite.”
He smiled slightly before he took a sip of his coffee.
“You seem like the kind of guy to slip out first thing in the morning.”
His eyes remained trained on me. “I am.”
“Then why are you still here?”
He held up his mug. “The coffee.”
I rolled my eyes even though I knew he was just teasing me.
“And the company.” He rested his elbows on the table and leaned forward slightly, like we were talking over the loud noises in a restaurant.
“You aren’t late for work?”
He shrugged. “I work when I feel like it.”
“Must be nice.” I showed up to my shifts right on the dot, and I still barely made enough to get by. I couldn’t afford to ditch work just because I’d had a long night.
He didn’t respond.
It was nice to sit with him without the pressure of a conversation. There was a natural comfort there, like we were friends. My mind wandered to our night together, focusing on the instant when I woke him up just to screw. He hadn’t seemed to mind, at least.
“What are your plans today?”
“I work in the afternoon. You?”
“I’m working all day and all night.”
I knew he had his hands in several businesses, but I never asked him personal questions about it. My ex-husband had always been possessive of his money and how he earned it. He didn’t keep secrets from me, but he didn’t talk about it much. I knew Damien’s bank laundered a lot of his money, so I assumed Damien wasn’t a clean-cut guy either. “You seem to work a lot.”
“Wasn’t always that way. I lost my partner recently.”
“Oh…I’m sorry.”
“He didn’t die,” he said quietly. “He decided it was time to walk away.”
My curiosity was getting the best of me. I wanted to know more about him, especially since I’d become infatuated with his performance in the bedroom. It was only natural that I wanted to know more about him. But I also reminded myself his career choice didn’t matter much. I wasn’t looking for anything serious, so I didn’t have to worry about getting mixed up in trouble. “What kind of business is this?”