“Back off,” Elena said, giving people the physical shove they needed. “Give him space to work.” She touched the father on the arm to get his attention. “Sir, could you please keep your wife back?”
The man came out of his daze long enough to nod and reach for his wife, murmuring in her ear, to encourage her to back away a few steps.
Elena pulled out her phone, ready to call 911, but Damian moved with practiced precision and confidence. Within moments, the kid gagged and coughed, and Damian rolled him to the side so the water could drain from his lungs.
The mother rushed in, clutching at the kid, who sat up looking dazed.
The father grabbed Damian’s hand and pumped it gratefully. Elena heard Damian tell the father to take his son to the hospital, and after making sure the kid was breathing and on his feet, the rest of the onlookers converged on him patting his back, shaking his hand, telling him he was a hero and had done a fabulous job.
Most of the rest of the party didn’t even notice what had happened, because it had started and ended so quickly. Only the people nearest the pool paid any attention, but now they mobbed him.
“Okay, all right, enough already,” Elena said, shoving through the people to Damian’s side. “He saved the boy’s life. Give the man some room.”
The opening chords of the band’s most recent hit blasted from the stage, and the bystanders began to disperse, heading back to the dance floor or over to the buffet or the bar. They’d be telling the story of the big man who flew into the pool and rescued the boy, all night long.
“You’re soaked,” Elena said. “Let’s get you inside and dried off.”
They headed for the house. “Don’t you mean get me out of these wet clothes?”
He had no idea. As if growing up into a six-and-a-half foot muscle-bound adonis wasn’t enough, he danced like a god, and saved small children. Seriously, how was a woman expected to resist such perfection?
He trailed behind her through the kitchen, and again the staff watched them, the heat of their eyes burning into her back until she and Damian took the back stairs up to the second floor.
She led him to her suite at the end of the hall, checking their back trail to be sure they hadn’t been followed before shoving him inside and shutting the door behind them. It reminded her very much like being in high school again and sneaking a boy in under her dad’s nose, except Damian had left before she’d lost the braces and glasses and finally got some boobs, so she’d never been able to drag him to her bedroom.
Being the daughter of a rich, prominent senator didn’t make it easy to do anything surreptitiously. In retrospect, the thrill of that kind of furtiveness might have been one of the appeals of becoming a CIA agent.
She crossed her arms and leaned against the door for a moment to catch her breath and get a good look at the huge, wet man standing in the middle of her room, dripping on the hardwood.
He fixed his gaze on her, then ran his hands through his hair shaking the resultant water from his fingers. “What?”
Wet white linen left nothing to the imagination. He may as well have been wearing plastic, yet she still wanted that shirt gone.
“I thought you were all worked up about getting out of those wet clothes,” she said.
She couldn’t speak for him, but she was about as worked up as she could stand without some sort of release.
He must have agreed, since he made quick work of the buttons on his shirt, shucking it with a shrug and dropping it to the floor in a sloppy-sounding splat.
Fat drops of water trickled down the smooth, bronze skin of his chest leaving wet trails in their wake, and disappearing into his shorts.
Ho-ly something. Blood seemed to have escaped her brain and headed down to points south.
“You’re drooling,” he said.
She checked the reflex to swipe at her mouth. He was teasing her, she knew, but damn, it wouldn’t surprise her to discover she actually had been drooling.
“Cocky much?”
He glanced down at his shorts, then back up at her with a grin that made her mouth go dry.
“What do you think?”
She followed his gaze to find his shorts tented again. Okay, so maybe he had reason to be cocky. She swallowed past the anticipation in her throat and gave him an offhand shrug. “Yeah, but do you know how to use it?”
“I’ll let you decide that.”
A zing of excitement shot to her core which clenched in eagerness. While he held her gaze, he unbuttoned his shorts and let them drop, kicking them aside when they hit the floor.
Well...
She’d apparently lost the ability to rub two words together.
Now, a huge, wet, naked man stood in the middle of her room with the biggest, most needy erection she’d ever seen. The thing seemed to have a life of its own, standing up tall against his belly, twitching and bouncing like an eager puppy.
She pushed off the door and met him where he stood, wrapping her fingers around his cock and sliding her hand along the silky, wet length of it in a long, slow stroke. Her caress pulled a low, growling sound from somewhere deep in his chest.
“So show me,” she said.
CHAPTER 3
Damian was happy to oblige. His body clicked over into instinct—a lot like when on a mission and he relied on training and muscle memory—except this was way more primitive. He grasped at his last spark of awareness and held tight, otherwise he’d go full caveman and shove her against the wall and pound into her until he saw stars.
“You’re overdressed,” he said, proud of the fact his voice came out normal and not choked.
“Mm-hmm,” she said, stroking him slower and tighter.
Damian’s inner caveman disapproved of his self-control, especially since Elena had given him permission. What was he waiting for?
Elena reached down with her other hand and gave his balls a stroke and a squeeze, and the caveman lost it.
Damian caught the hem of her dress and yanked it over her head in one swift jerk, drove her backward until her back slapped the door, then he planted his hungry mouth on hers.
He swallowed her needy whimper when she opened her mouth to him. She’d been nude under her dress—not a scrap of panties or even a bra to get past, just pure unobstructed skin warm and smooth against his chest and belly. He approved of her uninhibitedness, assuming that was even a word. He didn’t really care.
Her arms went around him and the bite of her nails jabbing into the muscles of his back made his cock spasm. As a big man with big appetites and a lot of power, he’d always had to be careful with women and hold back so he didn’t scare them—even the ones who claimed they liked it rough—because they usually didn’t like it as rough as they said. He always liked sex, no matter what, because getting off was getting off, but when Elena broke their kiss and focused her mouth on one of his nipples, he about came undone.
She started with a sweet, warm, wet flick of her tongue that made his belly clench in a way he hadn’t expected. While she licked the one, she caressed the other with her fingers. He felt ridiculous, lost in waves of desire just from her paying attention to his nipples, his eyes shut and holding his breath as heat built and rippled at her touch. He wondered if it felt similar when he did the same thing to her.
Then she bit him and he just about came with his cock jammed in her belly.
“What the fuck?” he said. This time his voice came out higher pitched than normal.
She bit her lip and lifted her brows, the fakest innocence he’d ever seen. He caught her by the waist and hauled her up to his eye level. She clamped her thighs to his waist and pushed herself up even higher, so she looked down on him, as if she’d climbed the tallest tree in the forest and could now see up into the clouds.
Damn, she was fucking breathtaking.
In that position, her tits were right in his face, so he figured turnaround was fair play. He sucked one nipple into his mouth, hard, and tweaked the other with his fingers and was rewarded
with a hissing intake of breath, then a long, low moan.
He liked a woman who knew herself and was comfortable in her own skin. They were rare in his experience. Elena didn’t seem to be shy in any way. Too bad this was once and done. She might be fun to get to know.
“That feels fabulous,” she said, throwing her head back to reveal a long, gorgeous expanse of neck. He wanted to take a bite out of it, but couldn’t bring himself to release her nipple. Tits made him stupid—warm, round, soft, sweet—whenever he saw a beautiful pair, he just wanted to bury his face in them and stay there.
But right behind tits—or maybe even with them—was pussy, and hers hovered right over the tip of his cock like a…
Fuck. He couldn’t think. Like a pussy. That’s what it was like. A pussy. What else did it have to be like?
He latched onto her waist and shoved her downward, plunging the tip of his cock into her hot, wet folds.
Talk about making him stupid. His brain turned to mud and one instinct took over: thrust.
He held her waist and his hips moved, thrusting, slamming, bucking, heaving. God if felt so fucking good.
The word echoed in his brain with each thrust: Good. Good. Gooooooood.
The air filled with the sounds of their mingled moans and grunts, the panting breath as they inhaled and exhaled, chasing their orgasms. He kissed and sucked her nipples, she squirmed, he rubbed and pinched her clit, she made needy, greedy sounds that drove him wild.
Damian’s orgasm started to curl low in his belly when somewhere deep in his brain the caveman waved his hands in a panic, trying to get Damian’s attention. Caveman was yelling something, but Damian gave him a mental fuck off, man, I’m about to come. Caveman cupped his hands over his mouth and hollered one word: condom.
Too late. Ice cold panic splashed his enthusiasm just as Elena’s orgasm hit, her body squeezing and clutching at his naked cock, triggering his orgasm which exploded like a cannon. Bright sparks flashed behind his closed lids, and loud thundering blasts rattled the walls.
“Oh, fireworks,” Elena said, her voice a husky purr.
At first he thought she meant the orgasm, then as blood returned to his brain, he realized she meant actual Fourth of July fireworks as part of the party.
“Elena, I didn’t use a condom.”
He waited for her anger or panic, but she patted him on the shoulder, kissed his nose, and lifted herself off his cock to climb back to the floor.
“Don’t worry about it, hotshot. I’ve got an IUD, so unless you have some raging STD, we’re good.”
Jesus, that had been a close one. Nothing like anxiety to make the orgasm even more intense.
Elena strutted over to the window, pushed the curtain aside, and leaned on the windowsill to watch the fireworks. She didn’t bother dressing, just sat that pretty round ass down and with her dark hair tumbling in waves down her back, looked up into the sky with wonder, oohing and aahing with each fiery blast.
He settled next to her to watch, too. “You like fireworks?” he asked.
She smiled, but didn’t take her eyes off the sky. “Fourth of July is my favorite holiday. Most people like Thanksgiving or Christmas, but I love the Fourth.”
“Is that why you work for the CIA?”
She shook her head. “The Fourth isn’t about patriotism. It’s about family. We always get together for a barbecue, though they’re not usually fundraisers. This year the holiday kind of sucks with all these strangers here and Dad schmoozing everyone for money.”
“Trust me, I can relate to a father who’s all about money.”
A big sparkly red white and blue firework burst, lighting up the sky. “Oh, that one was pretty,” she said. “We usually go watch the parade in town, then come home and make all kinds of food, swim, play football and yard darts and horseshoes, and Dad and my brothers always put together a wonderful fireworks show for us. It’s one of the few times every year when we all get together and forget all the shitty stuff and just have fun as a family.” She glanced sideways at him, trying to watch him and the fireworks. “Your family was here for at least one Fourth, weren’t they?”
“I remember one. I think I was fifteen? Maybe sixteen?”
“That would have made me thirteen or fourteen. What about you? What’s your favorite holiday?”
“Same. Fourth of July. It’s the perfect holiday for six brothers who want to stuff their faces, beat the shit out of each other playing sports, then blow crap up.”
She turned to face him and laughed, her eyes sparkly each time a firework burst outside. She cupped his face and kissed his lips, a sweet gesture that felt normal. “It’s too bad we won’t see each other again. I think you’d be all kinds of fun to get to know as an adult, Damian.”
“Yeah, I’m always out on missions. Never know when I’ll be home, so relationships are tough.”
She snorted. “Don’t worry, hotshot. I’m not trying to put a leash on you. Your man card’s safe. I travel a lot, too. I don’t have any more room in my life for a relationship than you do, so no worries.”
***
For the first time ever, Elena really did regret that she couldn’t spend more time with a man. With her body still humming from the sex, she wished for more—not more sex, but more time. Ten years ago she’d pined for him to look at her once as anything other than a tomboy. She would have killed to be his girlfriend. Now that he seemed to want her, at least for sex, it wasn’t possible. Damian was flat out adorable. Sure, he was a giant, blond, chiseled, alpha hunk of man, but she felt comfortable enough with him to be herself—which, unfortunately, she couldn’t do.
Unlike most men, she had the sense he didn’t put on airs. He was pretty much what you see is what you get, which she found refreshing. And unusual. And her complete opposite. The nature of her job required her to be a chameleon. Even when she wasn’t on assignment, she couldn’t be her real self for fear of giving herself away.
It never really bothered her, until now. She’d already let her guard down too much with him, as it was. Not that it mattered, since they’d go their separate ways, back to their separate lives, but just once she wished she could have a genuine connection with a man.
“I’m cool,” he said
She glanced down at his re-inflating erection, then back up at his face and waggled her brows. “All evidence to the contrary.”
“What can I say? You bring out the beast in me.”
“You mean best?”
“That, too.”
She giggled—something she rarely did, but she liked the luxury of feeling a little silly—and leaned in to kiss him. His stubble tickled her lips before his tongue came out to play, seeking entry to her mouth. She gladly gave it, craving another taste of him.
His hands came up and snatched at her hair, fisting it tight at the roots. The sting and pressure, his brute strength, dissolved her into a pool of desire. Some primitive part of her liked giving in to him, which gave her pause. She usually preferred being in control. Since when would she want to give that over to someone else? Yet, it didn’t feel threatening. It felt indulgent, sensuous, hedonistic, sumptuous. If she were a puppy, she’d flop over and let him rub her belly, wriggling and wagging her tail in sheer happiness.
Using the fistful of hair to guide her, he rolled her to her back on the floor and crawled over the top of her, his presence looming and filling the space around them. The cool hardwood raised gooseflesh on her skin, narrowing her focus to the heat between them where his cock nudged at her opening.
He kissed her lips—his dog tags dangling from his neck and resting on her chest—then moved to her ear, nipping it just enough to burn before kissing and licking his way down her neck to her collarbone. That, he took between his teeth like a drumstick.
She put her hands on his shoulders and pushed him up enough to look in his eyes. “Try not to leave any marks, there, hotshot.”
He grinned, a teasing look if she’d ever seen one. “Can’t promise anything.”
“Oh really?”
His teasing had her feeling her oats. She didn’t want to think about caution. She wanted to have real fun. Enjoy him for this one night. So while he still wore his confident grin, she used her thigh to sweep his knee out from under him, and at the same time shoved his chest with her hands, forcing him into a roll. She expected to end up on top of him, triumphant that she’d taken him by surprise and subdued him, but she should have known it wouldn’t be that easy with a SEAL.
He used the momentum of the roll to not only get back on top of her, but to grab her waist and flip her face down. She didn’t like being bettered, and her first instinct was to counter his moves, to grapple and wrestle, but then he bent over her back to speak into her ear, his voice and breath heating the skin of her neck even through the mess of her hair.
“I’m impressed.”
Something inside her took pride in that. Then his hard cock slid between her ass cheeks as he grabbed her hands with one of his own, trapping them behind her back, and her insides clenched with need.
“I know a thing or two,” she said.
With his other hand he swiped the hair away from her face. He was so close the heat of his skin warmed her check. In her peripheral vision his dilated pupils and gritted teeth screamed feral, all of which made her so wet she couldn’t help squirming her ass, hoping his cock might bump her clit.
“What else do you know?”
“I know I want that big fucking cock of yours inside me.”
He chuckled in her ear. “You have a dirty little mouth.”
“I guess you bring out the beast in me, too.”
“Okay, then.”
He released her hands and hauled her up onto all fours. Grasping her hips, he pulled her back against his cock. Doggie style. She could work with that.
One hand left her waist and next thing his fingers slid through the wetness of her folds on the way to her clit, which he flicked a couple of times—making her twitch and jump—before settling for a rough caress.
Holy shit jeez fucking Louise...
Damian (The Caine Brothers #3) Page 3
