Friday's Child - Sexual Healing

“My name . . . is Damon.” He relished the pulse of pleasure that shot through him as he imagined her soft breath teasing over the rest of his body. “And it's been far, far too long.”
“I can tell.” Her tongue darted out to tease his skin, and her reaction to the jolt of need was even stronger than his. Color rose in her cheeks, and her breathing turned ragged. “You'll be the best fuck I've had in years, won't you?”
“If I'm not, it won't be for lack of trying,” he said, slipping his hand around to the back of her head. He stared down at her lips, full and parted and glistening, and his easy, confident words vanished. So he licked the corner of her mouth and bit her lower lip with a groan.
“Come to bed with me, Damon.” She reached up, obviously intending to curl her hand around his wrist.
He caught her hand, his heart pounding. “Don't touch me.” He tugged her other arm up and backed her against the wall, pinning both hands over her head. “Keep them there.”
Something flashed in her gaze, something dark and dangerous. Janie might have trembled in fear in his presence, but this woman wasn't afraid of him. She proved it with a slow, amused smile and a husky laugh that made his balls tighten. “No. If this is where you want my hands, you can keep them here yourself.”
“I can do that.” He held her wrists in one hand and slid the other slowly down her side. The gauzy fabric bunched under his fingers, revealing one luscious, naked hip. “Anything in particular you don't like?”
“Men who hold back.” Her eyes were bottomless, the color of good, single malt Irish whisky, and she stared up at him with naked lust.
“In bed or out?”
She tested his grip with one soft tug of her hands, and her breath caught when he simply tightened his fingers. She wet her lips and closed her eyes. “Both. But since you're determined to hold back outside of the bed, I hope you can make up for it.”
Her mouth called to him, and Damon kissed her softly before answering. “Sweetheart, if I wasn't determined to make you come a few times before I get you naked, I'd already be fucking you.” He eased closer, grinding his cock against her hip, and kissed her again.
There was nothing hesitant about the way she welcomed him. Her lips parted under his and she moaned, low and unrestrained. Everything about her felt hungry, from the way she rocked her hip against him in a steady, maddening rhythm to the tingle of the power that surrounded them.
Her energy wasn't focused enough to be a purposeful overture, and she was too wrapped up in arching off the wall and into him to be thinking about it. He relaxed and let her in, just so she could feel what he intended to do to her before the night was out.
She tore her mouth from his and panted against his cheek as her body trembled under the force of his unleashed desire. When she spoke again, her voice shook, and not just with desire, but yearning as well. “There's something you warriors forget when you're so wrapped up in your pain and your solitude. You're not the only ones with needs.”
He'd take great pleasure in tending her needs, as often and completely as their time together allowed. Her chest heaved, and her nipples were taut under the thin robe. Damon bent his head and took one in his mouth.
Another breathless moan filled the air between them as she arched her back and pressed into his touch. “Too slow. If you’d let me go I'd be riding you already.”
The image formed in his head of dim light reflecting off her burnished skin, her hips rolling effortlessly above his, head thrown back as she sought and found pleasure. He stifled a groan and scraped his teeth over the wet, filmy chiffon clinging to her nipple. “Didn't know your needs included rushing me.”
“Then you weren't listening before, Damon.” She hooked her leg over his and ground down against his thigh with another soft noise. “I need a man who doesn't hold back.”