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His hips begin to move at a fast pace. Long, deep strokes tease me, but the fast pace pushes me closer and closer to insanity. I’ve already come twice, but I already know that the way he’s fucking me means I have at least one more orgasm in the chamber. “Fuck,” I moan around his fingers, pushing my hips forward to take more of him.
He gives me the rest of his cock, and I’m so full I suck in a deep breath. He’s so big, probably too big if I wasn’t so drenched from two orgasms, and the discomfort is only enhancing my pleasure.
“That’s right, Frankie,” he says in a voice hoarse with lust. “Take all of me.”
I don’t know how he knows what I’m thinking, and I’m sure I’ll obsess about it later, but right now, my only focus is on the way his cock is touching me everywhere. He’s so thick that every glide sends sparks flying under my skin until I’m on fire, hungry and desperate to put it out while also prolonging it.
His hips move in a perfect rhythm, and I know he’s close as well. Watching the way the muscles in his neck pop out, the way his jaw clenches without his gaze ever leaving mine, is so fucking erotic that I can’t stop the orgasm as it erupts.
“Damien!” My body bows and arches, tenses, and then convulses as the orgasm rips through my body. It feels like the one time I tried surfing and got pulled under. Every time I try to surface from the pleasure drowning me, another wave crashes over me, leaving me gasping and panting as I shake uncontrollably.
“You’re good,” he growls, fucking me deeper, grinding his hips against mine. Just as my orgasm crests and I start coming down, he rolls my clit between his fingers and starts me up all over again.
“Oh. My. God!” My body shakes as his cock explodes, filling me up even as juices flood my body between us. It’s never happened to me before, but right now, I lean into it. I savor it until it knocks me out.
Damien kisses my collarbone and my shoulder as his strokes slow down, allowing me to gently come down from the extreme pleasure. “Such a good little kitten,” he whispers before he grabs a handful of my hair, tugging it so hard I may have another orgasm. “Francesca,” he whispers before claiming me in a kiss that’s all fire and smoke, harsh and claiming.
Devastating.
I’m gasping when he pulls back, wearing a satisfied smile, my body still so sensitive I’m not sure if I want to pass out or fuck again.
His cock slips free, and he gathers me close in his arms, not bothering to clean up the mess between us. It’s sticky and wet, and as my eyelids flutter shut, it’s the last fucking thing on my mind.
Sometime later, Damien wakes me up again for another round of incredible sex that’s even better and more intense than the first round. I’m trembling long after orgasms four and five are just a memory, and I want more.
Like a drug addict needs another fix.
I’m in trouble and I know it. Morning sex so good I know I’ll walk funny all day long, followed up by a kiss on my doorstep that’s so deep and passionate, so hot that I’m on the verge of begging him to come inside and take me again.
This man is dangerous, which means the smart, modern woman that I am should steer clear.
But when he hits me with that sleepy smile and a sexy promise. “I’ll see you soon, Francesca. Very soon,” I know without a doubt that I won’t steer clear.
I mean, jeez, I’m only human.
My hot shower is ruined by thoughts of being a plaything to a tech billionaire. That’s all this is, right? Screw that. I’m not anyone’s plaything, definitely not some rich guy who has the world at his fingertips.
Am I?
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Frankie
This is the Black Bearded Iris, Francesca. Don’t let the color fool you. Their beauty means elegance and power, two things that make me think of you.
D~
I rush into the precinct on Monday morning—twenty-three minutes late because, like a lovesick teenager, I spent fifteen minutes staring at the gorgeous flowers Damien had delivered to my door first thing this morning.
The night was everything I never knew I needed, but I am curious why he’s so fascinated with me. He’s handsome and intelligent, not to mention incredibly rich, so why is he so interested in an exhausted homicide detective? I need to figure it out so I can make sense of him as well as my own feelings.
Where this relationship could go. If we even have a relationship.
“Frankie, are you even listening?” The annoyance in Jay’s tone tells me this isn’t the first time he’s tried to get my attention.
I blink and clear away the fog that comes with thoughts of Damien, shaking my head and trying for a smile. “Sorry, I was just thinking about the case,” I lie smoothly.
Not smoothly enough, though, because Jay’s brows dip in a familiar expression of concern. I see his worry and brace myself for whatever has him so worked up. “Are you sure you’re up for it, Frankie? I don’t want you pushing yourself or getting too wrapped up in this fucker’s mind.”
