My Love Protect Page 13

  We were two halves of a damaged whole.

  I loved him more than ever for wanting to make this up to me. At this rate, soon I would forget all his trespasses. Soon…

  Damian nuzzled my shoulder before pulling away. “It’s going to be all right, Risa. I promise.”

  Suddenly, I was glad of his confidence. Nothing swayed Damian from his course. Not my fear. Not my anger. Not my self-doubt. Nothing.

  I dared to let happiness come to me.

  Without saying another word, Damian picked up a pitcher and poured water over my back. His large hand rubbed a cake of lavender soap across my skin. The scent perfumed the air sweetly.

  Damian needed to give this to me and I needed it as much. We’d take the peace and normalcy for as long as we could.

  He washed my hair. I relaxed and let my head sway as his long fingers massaged my scalp tenderly. “Looks like a certain sweet girl likes to be pampered, doesn’t she?”

  “Yes, Damian.”

  It was a tiny sigh of acquiescence that did nothing to disguise the pleasure I felt at his attention. He reacted as if I’d said, “I love you.” Perhaps because he knew it meant the same thing.

  I turned my head towards Damian much like a flower follows the sun. He brought the edge of the towel and wiped my eyes from the threat of bubbles. Then he lathered his hands up and reached for my breasts.

  I inhaled sharply.

  He soaped them up, lifting each full mound with his slippery hands before paying special attention to my nipples. Already hard, they tightened to near-pain as his fingers brushed over them again and again.

  This was punishment. It just had to be because otherwise…oh, it felt too good but was still not enough.

  I dropped my head back when Damian’s touch skated across my belly. My muscles jumped and twitched the lower he got. He cleaned my waist and hips in large swoops. Finally, Damian reached my pubic bone.

  “Spread your legs,” he whispered.

  This could be a battle of wills. If I was still entrenched in my ego and pride, I could show him that he couldn’t control me through sex. I’d push the point that I had the power. Not him.

  But it wasn’t about fighting. It was about loving.

  I slowly let them drop open.

  32

  Damian didn’t smirk. Triumph didn’t dance in his eyes. He looked at me with immense love, as if I’d given him a gift.

  Thoughts scattered away.

  Damian’s fingers stroked me gently, tracing along my folds with breathtaking familiarity.

  “Does this feel good?” he crooned in my ear.

  I couldn’t speak. Only nod.

  Damian exhaled raggedly. His cheek pressed against mine.

  One fingertip circled my entrance, teasing, tempting, and full of promise. It slid back up to my clit, circling, before going down to my entrance. Back and forth, giving me just enough to make my heart race and my breath pant, but not enough to make me come.

  And I wanted to come.

  I wanted to come with Damian’s face against mine, our mouths scant inches apart…no. I wanted to come with his naked body hard against mine. I wanted to come with his thick cock stretching me wide.

  Would Damian get in the tub if I asked him to? Maybe if I opened up my arms as easily as I’d opened up my legs he’d give into me? The words wouldn’t have to be said when we felt what we did.

  Intuitive to my thoughts, Damian kissed my damp cheek. “Enjoy this, Risa. For me.”

  It was all the permission I needed. Dropping my head back, I twisted my hips, greedy for more contact. Damian took mercy on me. Two fingers suddenly slid into me all the way to the knuckle.

  Overcome, I cried out his name while he pumped hard. Two fingers became three, mimicking his girth but still not thick enough. Damian used his thumb to rhythmically tap against my needy clit.

  I threw my arm out and dug my nails into his shoulder. Damian lifted me higher, ignoring my whine of complaint. My complaining turned into deep moans as his lips fastened around one hard nipple.

  I was so close…so beautifully close to falling apart.

  Tunneling the fingers from my free hand through his hair, I kissed his face feverishly. Damian left my nipple long enough to snake his tongue into my open mouth before returning to my aching breast.

  It wouldn’t take much to fall over, but I clung on with ragged nails because I wanted to keep this sinful pleasure going forever…

  As if he knew of my greed, Damian sucked me hard and then gentle, alternating the pressure so I wouldn’t know what was coming. His hand did the same.

  It felt so fucking good I could scream. So I did.

  Damian groaned with my breast deep in his mouth. The vibrations went through me and I arched up hard. We were so close and it was the sweetest torture.

  Close but not nearly enough.

  Bringing my legs up, I tilted my hips even further, encouraging Damian to pump me deeper and harder. He obliged me for a lovely minute before sliding his arm beneath my back and lifting me out of the water.

  Damian spread me open. We both stared at my slick folds. Me in anticipation. Him in hunger. His mouth fastened on my pussy and I truly lost it.

  Fisting my hand against his shoulder, I arched back and let out a hoarse cry.

  “Sir, I want to come! Please can I come?”

  Damian growled deep in his throat. His tongue flicked quickly against my clit before answering. “Say it again.”

  “Sir, can I please come?”

  “Again!”

  Eyes opened up a mere slit, I looked at Damian. Excitement reflected in his heavy-lidded gaze. I knew then what he wanted to hear.

  “Sir. Oh Sir, can you let me come? I’ve been so good.”

  Damian’s pupils expanded, nearly swallowing everything whole. His breathing deepened, hoarse and labored as if he’d run for miles without stopping.

  “Yes, my love. You can come.”

  I let out a cry of satisfaction when his lips pursed around my clit again and sucked gently while filling me with three fingers roughly.

  Soft. Hard.

  Enough. Never enough.

  The sun and the moon.

  Damian and Risa.

  Pleasure waves tumbled over me with his name a prayer on my lips.

  The universe righted itself for just a bit. Fear of the unknown threats lost its hold on my throat and I could breathe again.

  He loves me. I love him. That’s more than enough to meet this head on. Everything will work out for the better. It has to. I’ll keep pushing and he’ll keep pulling. Eventually, we’ll meet in the middle. Until then we just have to work together…

  Limp and satiated for the moment, I felt Damian gather me to him. “I’m getting your clothes wet,” I murmured sleepily.

  “I don’t care.”

  How far had he come, this man who cared so much about every part of his appearance? Always needing to look just so and hating when a tiny wrinkle or a speck of lint dared mar his perfection…

  Unless he was naked and thrusting deep inside me. Then he was free of control. I couldn’t wait to see his mask ripped off and lying on the floor.

  Are you sure about that? the voice of reason asked. You might go back to the person you were.

  But it wasn’t all a bad thing, was it?

  The events of the past months flashed. I saw myself bent but not broken because of the commitment of now.

  He’s worth forever.

  “Tell me again what you would do if I got lost?” I murmured drowsily, needing to hear his familiar words like a beloved bedtime tale.

  “I would find you. No matter how far or how long you were gone.”

  “Would you ever forget me again?”

  “Never.”

  “How do you know? How can you be so sure?”

  Damian lifted my hand and placed it against his chest. “Do you feel this, Risa? As long as it beats then know that it beats for you.”

  I was going to take his gift and run
with it. I would forgive everything, bury my pain and let it disappear.

  And then my leg throbbed once, a ghost to remind me of something undeniable.

  This kind of pain never disappeared. It may fade but it’d leave a scar.

  33

  DAMIAN

  I wanted to know all the little things about my love. I wanted her to share them with me. The silence, once foolishly wished for from time to time, hurt now because I knew I was the reason for its existence.

  I wanted to hear all her thoughts. Nothing was too insignificant. All of Risa mattered.

  “What was your first pet’s name?”

  “Bones.”

  “Because he liked to eat them?”

  “Ah, no.”

  “Then what?” I prodded even though it was clear she wanted to avoid answering.

  She colored slightly and bit her lip. Risa stared at the open book on her lap. I didn’t push, showing all the patience of a saint.

  “He was named after a character in Star Trek.” Her lush mouth tightened. Risa awaited a verbal taunt that would never come. I regretted snapping at her on our first date. I’d assumed she’d tried to condescend to me, thinking I was just like every other IT geek she’d met.

  Instead, she’d been trying to share bits of her life. I had crushed something fragile and my arrogance hadn’t allowed me to see it until it was too late.

  “You loved the show a lot.”

  She nodded once, eyes gone soft with memory. “So does my dad.”

  I didn’t have to hear her say how much his opinion mattered. The unspoken said it all. As did the tapes of her hiding out in Houston a week after I…no, not me…the idiot masquerading as me…cut ties with Risa. She didn’t want to worry her mother, but especially her father.

  To make Risa happy I’d have to win Richard Kelly over. A daunting task indeed but not impossible. But that would come later. Now I had to win Risa over.

  Again.

  She’d withdrawn from me after this morning’s blissful activities in the bathroom. Risa feared our connection. Or rather she distrusted herself.

  My love was afraid of falling too easily to me.

  Our passion should’ve created a bridge between us. Instead, Risa stayed on her side and silently bade me to stay on mine.

  I wouldn’t do that.

  What I would do was be the man she needed me to be months, weeks, before this chaos. I would be kind and devoted, unabashed in showing her my emotions. She was my lady and I’d be her eternal slave.

  I leaned back in the leather chair. Replaying the sweet sounds of her voice breathily saying, “Sir,” made me hard as a stone.

  What a juxtaposition. Master and slave.

  Her submission to me hadn’t faded. Even given the freedom to take what she wanted from me, Risa gave me her all.

  I didn’t have to be told I was incredibly fortunate to have this sweet girl.

  And yes, Risa was deliciously sweet. I could still taste her. I’d lick her pretty pussy all day long if things were different. As it was, I’d savor the taste of Risa for as long as I could.

  She looked up at me, dark gaze shadowed with worry. Worry and need.

  I understand, little girl, because I feel it too.

  “Tell me about your favorite book.”

  ***

  She was frustrated. Perverse creature. The more charming I was the more she seemed to burn from it.

  I may not have felt kinship with the imposter inhabiting my body in New York, but I remembered everything clearly. Especially when it came to Risa.

  I didn’t understand it back then, but I did now. I hurt Risa so often when I was a silver-tongued devil to everyone but her. She assigned it a value that was incorrect.

  Risa didn’t understand. Whether I remembered her or not, I refused to treat her as I would anyone else. Saying words that meant nothing, smiling for the same reason, all of it was a façade. One I didn’t want to touch her.

  Still, it hurt my love.

  So I plied the charm. Solicitous, I smiled often as I fixated my interest on her.

  I checked on her comfort several times a day, making sure she was never thirsty or hungry. I cooked for Risa, doing my best to tempt her sparse appetite. She thanked me and didn’t turn anything away.

  But I knew the difference between her enthusiastic eating and this. But instead of ordering her to eat more, I simply took her near-full plate away without comment.

  Risa was frustrated by my acquiescence.

  Which simply went to prove my belief she needed the push and pull in order to be happy with me. Perhaps it was the constant rush of winning me over. Or maybe proving to herself she’d do only what she wished.

  It didn’t matter. I already understood who I needed to be as the safe place for Risa. I just had to make her remember it again.

  When I wasn’t monitoring the systems and ensuring we remained off the radar, I spent every waking moment on Risa.

  Nothing she did escaped my attention. I entertained her with games, UNO especially. While it was tempting to let her win, I didn’t care to insult Risa by not giving it my best.

  She still won at least half of our matches with her deadly successions of “Draw Four”. But Risa didn’t crow her victories. She was gracious in winning as she was with everything she did.

  It was just another reason why I admired her.

  Loved her.

  Craved her.

  Needed her.

  Breathed her.

  Tasted her.

  Risa was my other half. She filled in the missing pieces.

  I didn’t hide my feelings from Risa. I showed them in an outpouring of affection. This didn’t bring us closer.

  Risa didn’t fully trust me. Rather, she didn’t trust my open friendliness. I gave her what she always thought she wanted and now she was learning she didn’t really want it at all.

  Wicked creature.

  Here I was giving her access to my innermost thoughts concerning her and Risa viewed me as if I was attempting to rob her blind.

  Vexing.

  But this was the path I chose by keeping my mouth shut when it came to the reasons why we were in the Romanian countryside versus being anywhere else.

  Was it a symptom of insanity for me to treat this as if we were taking a break from the rest of the world instead of going to ground to flush out my enemies?

  I had my reasons, ones I had no intention of sharing with Risa. Suffice it to say I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t fully trust my father or his guidance. He instructed me to come here if violence and intrigue looked my way.

  Between the geographic isolation and the house’s security, I had confidence we’d successfully weather the storm.

  That was why I never prohibited Risa from going outside. I merely accompanied her for the short trips but only after triple-checking the security system.

  Everything remained clear.

  Reports showed surveillance remained on our decoys in Bucharest. They made sure to keep inside the high-security building, having meals delivered along with an obscene amount of La Perla lingerie.

  Sourly, I wondered if I’d been remiss in keeping a few items here. Although they probably would remain pristine in their tissue boxes.

  Risa had yet to beg me. The time in the tub wasn’t enough. She begged to come but she didn’t beg for me.

  She was sexually frustrated but wouldn’t yield. I wanted to ease it for her but couldn’t. Sex wasn’t the answer. Not the complete answer.

  We could lay in bed all day and fuck until we couldn’t move a muscle, but nothing real would change. The past would still come between us.

  I recognized Risa was doing her best. She was actively trying to bury the past even as she struggled with her maelstrom feelings. Still, it lingered. The words, my words, were not enough.

  As they shouldn’t be.

  Besides, Risa’s resentment and rage towards New York hadn’t even come close to the surface. I could force it out of her and suffer the v
iciousness of her tongue. Or I could allow it to come in time and suffer death by a thousand cuts.

  We had nothing better to do while we waited.

  “My love, are you warm enough?”

  Risa stopped rubbing her arms. “I’m fine.”

  Liar.

  I unfolded from my seat. “You’re not fine.” Although I was committed to being a kinder, gentler version of myself, command came as easy as breathing. I caught myself and shifted the conversation. Picking up a fur throw, I tucked it firmly around her legs.

  “There. All better?”

  Risa’s eyes couldn’t hide the sharp points. She wanted to be angry with me but couldn’t find a hook. I watched as confusion and hurt scuttled beneath the sudden storm of emotion.

  “All better.”

  Brilliant smile.

  I mirrored it and took twisted joy in seeing the tiny flinch.

  It’s not so nice when it’s turned on you, is it?

  I welcomed Risa’s frustration, not her self-censoring.

  I wanted her to snap. Once she erupted, whether it involved cursing me, throwing silver frames at my head, or breaking 18th century English chairs against the stone walls, then we’d be ready for healing. Until then…

  Impasse.

  Risa was stubborn but when it came to her—so was I.

  34

  RISA

  I lasted two days.

  Two days of unfailing politeness. Two days of doting attention. Two days of charming stories about the Amazon, Machu Picu, and Nazca Lines.

  Two days of Damian being everything I thought I wanted.

  Two days of unfailing politeness.

  Two days of polish.

  Two days of misery.

  Two days of saying goodnight at my door after Damian kissed my hand and nothing else.

  Two days of pretending that I didn’t ride his hand and beg for him to let me come.

  Two days that I silently begged him and he still didn’t give me what I wanted.

  If Damian had just scooped me up and took me to bed then I could’ve ignored my hesitation and maudlin thoughts about love, pain, and scars. I wouldn’t have spent two sleepless nights tossing and turning, aching because he was right on the other side of the wall but as far from me as he ever was.