When she didn't stop to analyze, when she merely accepted, she was completely and utterly bowled over by the intense connection between them. Searching back, it was too soon, too young, too fresh to be so strong, so stable, so . . . permanent. Wasn't it?
There were rules for relationships, surely, that didn't include falling in love in such a short period of time. They were supposed to date, bicker, break up, fight, get back together, ponder getting married, children, baby names and then be engaged for at least a year before settling into marriage like an old couple. Right?
Damon had taken everything she'd ever considered about love and turned it on its head. Ever since they'd embarked down the path of her fantasies their relationship had a surreal quality that she still struggled with.
But if it wasn't real, what was it? No one could fake this kind of emotion. Who was she to say that what she felt, what Damon professed to feel, what he showed her with each glance, every touch, was an illusion?
The realization of just how wrong she was staggered her. Every day she expected to be the last, as if one of them would wake up and realize they were deluding themselves or each other.
While Damon had been giving their relationship his all, she'd been giving it a time limit.
A low sob welled in her throat, catching and stealing her breath. She swallowed and swallowed again, but it tore out as painful as her lack of faith.
Damon went still, and then he pulled away, concern deep in his eyes. "Serena, what's wrong?"
He put his hands to her face, touching lightly, seeking, running them down her neck and over her shoulders then back up again.
"Nothing is wrong," she choked out. "Everything is very, very right."
He gazed at her with the look of a man completely befuddled by a woman. How was she to make him understand anyway? There was no way for her to make it right with mere words. No, not unless they were the right words. Just the perfect ones. "What shall I wear?" she whispered. "And when should I be ready?"
He fingered the band around her arm, the beautiful piece of jewelry he'd gifted her with. The symbol of his ownership. She'd never once taken it off, and she knew if she were to remove it that the impression would be branded onto her skin.
"Your stockings," he said after a moment's consideration. "The black ones. And your heels, the ones I just bought for you."
"What else?"
"Just your silk robe. The short one that hangs just below the band of your stockings. Nothing else."
"When should I get ready?"
He kissed her again. "Now. I find I'm unable to wait any longer. We'll leave as soon as you're dressed."
Chapter 16
Tonight she stood at the side of the bed, her back to Cole as he slipped the blindfold snugly around her eyes. Julie sucked in her breath as the room went dark. Immediately her hands went out, seeking the edge of the bed in reassurance. Cole caught her by the waist and held her there for a moment until he was sure she had her bearings.
For one brief second, she wondered . .. But no, he couldn't be one of her men. The hands were all wrong. His were smooth. Too smooth. Not rough like her guys.
"I'll leave you now," Cole said next to her ear. "Get comfortable. They'll be in shortly."
She crawled onto the bed and instead of lying down, she rested on her knees, letting her hands curl into fists on the tops of her thighs.
She didn't have long to wait. The door quietly opened, and the brief disturbance in the air told her they had come. Footsteps, barely audible, whispered along the floor. She sat there, fists clenched tight as she heard them discard their clothing.
Why was she so nervous? She was trembling, her mouth dry as she waited. She hadn't been this antsy the first time, but then she knew what waited for her this time.
A sudden thought hit her. Would they even be the same men? She swallowed back her panic. No, Damon wouldn't do that to her, would he? She hadn't specified that they'd be the same men, and she had no guarantee her original lovers would even want her again.
A hand slid over her right shoulder, and she breathed a sigh of relief. The light rasp of those work-roughened hands soothed her nerves. It was him. Her gentle lover.
He let his fingers wander downward to cup her full breast. He weighed it in his palm for a long second before brushing his thumb over the peak, coaxing it to full arousal.
She emitted a soft gasp when his lips touched her shoulder. Just a soft brush that sent chills racing up her neck, tightening all the tiny hairs at her nape. A warm, silken glide. The hairs of his beard scraped delicately over the curve of her neck, his soft breath spilling over her skin.
Her back arched as she bowed upward, seeking more of his touch, his tongue, those wonderful lips. His other hand slipped down her back, to the hollow above her behind and then caressing lightly over her buttocks.
Another gasp stuttered out when the other man's lips closed over her nipple, sucking hard. He nipped at the bud, grazing the puckered skin with his teeth.
Then a second mouth closed over her other breast and she moaned, throwing back her head to give them better access.
The dual sensations, so different and yet thrilling, captivated her. She knew without seeing which was which. Her gentle lover plucked softly at her nipple, toying, loving, while the other man suckled hard.
Carefully they laid her back and to her surprise turned her over onto her stomach. Hands, lips, the soft glide of tongues slid over her shoulders, her spine, her ass. She floated, lulled by the decadent wash seeping over her.
Firm thighs straddled hers. Fingers curled beneath her ass to grip her legs, spreading them slightly. She sucked in her breath when a cock nudged between her cheeks, sliding downward, seeking her pussy.
He arched over her, raising his hips and then sinking, lodging himself firmly into her wetness. Trapped between him and the bed, all she could do was process the sensation of being pinned, penetrated, as he held himself deeply within her body.
Back and forth. Slowly he glided, rasping over her swollen, damp tissues. The dragging sensation spurred electric currents, each one racing through her belly to her breasts, drawing her nipples into hard knots.
Fingers dragged through her hair, and at first she thought he was merely petting her, but then he touched her cheek, tapping the hollow just enough so she parted her lips. She started to raise her head, but he held her down, letting her know she was fine and to relax.
So she lay there, her cheek pressed to the mattress as he positioned his cock at her mouth and then slid inward. He laid his palm over her face in a gentle cup as he thrust in and out.
Her belly was flattened as her other lover rode her, his big body leaned over her as his hips flexed and strained. She could feel every one of his muscles tighten when his flesh met hers. It was heady, delicious, and she never wanted it to end.
His fists met the bed on either side of her hips with a thump as he dug in and began thrusting with more vigor. Long, deep, he buried himself completely, wedging himself as tightly as he could go.
They were careful not to overwhelm her, and she didn't know if she was grateful or frustrated. The one fucking her mouth was exceedingly gentle, and yet this wasn't her gentle lover. No, he was the one deep inside her pussy. Why was her more insistent man being so careful with her mouth?
A single finger trailed down the cleft of her ass, stirring a remembrance of how she'd done the same to Nathan. Man, did he have a nice ass. She shivered and wiggled a bit when he stopped and toyed with the puckered ring of her anus.
His thrusts had stilled now, and he concentrated more on playing with her ass, rimming the entrance with a light touch and then pressing inward as if trying to insert the blunt tip of his finger inside her.