Under the Full Moon (Crimson Romance) (3 page)

“Thank God for Damien,” whispered, more to herself than to Beth.

“Yes. Seems you were right about him.” Beth grinned at her.

“How so?”

“About what he needed.”

“A kick in the ass?” Moss asked joining them.

“Who needs a kick in the ass?” Damien quizzed suddenly appearing from the guest hall.

As much as she loved her niece and Moss, Grace thought they’d never leave. When Damien appeared from the shower, hair wet and shirt clinging to every decadent muscle, she’d nearly sighed in satisfaction. If the visual wasn’t enough to set her heart pumping, the distinct smell of male that assaulted her senses was definitely enough to set her lady bits tingling. Wild male. Grace wanted nothing more than to pounce. Instead, she forcibly endured two more cups of friggin’ ladylike tea as Damien filled Moss in on what he’d sensed and how he’d found her. Damien vanished for a spell, and Grace caught sight of him outside with a pail and sponge. He’d cleaned the paint from her wall.

Finally Beth and Moss left, but promised to return in the morning to check on her and go over plans about preventing any further attacks from Demetrius or his crew. Great. Of all times she didn’t want guests. Or she hoped wouldn’t if her plan worked out.

“I guess I’ll leave you to get some rest.” Damien murmured as if he thought he was intruding on her personal space.

He stood silhouetted in the moonlight. They were finally alone. Just the two of them with all her naughty thoughts. Admiration stirred low in her belly at how his golden hued skin shimmered in the night’s silvery rays. As if he’d read her thoughts his lids lowered to half-mast as a predatory glimmer sparked.

He made no move toward her. She sensed he needed her to go to him. Prove she wanted him. And she did. Halfway across the distance she remembered she wore the ugly t-shirt and sweat pants and panicked at how dowdy she must appear. But that gaze of his squelched any questions of whether he wanted her.

Grace didn’t stop until their toes touched and she had to raise her head to see him.

All around them the house stood silent and dark. All except for Damien swathed in the beams from the moon. Sexy?
Oh gawd, please don’t let me drool.

“You were attacked. I … uh … ”

She was the one who should feel nervous, yet here she stood, toe to toe, with her swamp shifter. A shifter who had special night eyes, and an extra heightened sense of smell. There was no hiding anything from him, especially her aroused state. Wet, ready and anxious.

Time to take the situation into her own hands since he acted like she’d break if he touched her. Took her.

Grace slid her palms, under his tee, and up his firm, slightly fuzzy chest, feeling more brazen than she had in years. When she reached his face, she forced his head down, locked eyes with him and, rising on her tiptoes, planted one on him. Thank God kissing was like riding a bicycle. Once you knew how, you never forgot. She teased his lips by tracing them with her tongue until they parted. His gaze never left hers.

An odd rumble sounded and before she even blinked, she found herself up against her wood farmhouse table. Vague awareness of things crashing to the floor flittered through her mind, but what the hell … life was short and you only lived once. She’d learned that the hard way …

Damien lifted her off the floor and laid her across the table. He stared at her like she was a banquet of gourmet goods. Grace tried to sit, wanted the infernal t-shirt off him, but one large hand pushed her back. In one swift swipe, the t-shirt cleared his head and sailed across the room. Her jogging pants and underwear were next with her panties ending up on a lamp.

The wood was cool against her ass and thighs but not for long. He grabbed her by the front of her tee and pulled until she sat upright. Unlike his hurried pace of moments before, his knuckles grazed her sides, slow and leisurely as he grabbed the hem of the tee. Higher and higher it rose until it covered her face and was blessedly removed. She needed the skin on skin contact and the sooner the better. She hadn’t bothered with a bra, as the tee had been thick enough not to worry with one.
Yay for free range girls!

Cool air hit her chest and puckered her nipples into taut buds as he tossed her top somewhere else amongst the clutter now littering her kitchen.

He stood watching her as she perched on the table, bare ass naked. It was unnerving and exciting at the same time. Instinct had her sucking her tummy in as he continued to stare while his hands shot to the closure on his pants.

Each ting from the zippers rungs sent quivers through her.
Well, hello
. Someone had gone commando and … wow.

Abs decorated his chest all the way down to the cut at his waist, that beautiful spot on a man that screamed “follow me.” As if that didn’t point you in the right direction, then Damien had a small line of dark hair that rode right down to his impressive cock.

Her eyes stuck on the hard lines and bulging parts. When she brought her gaze back to his face, the hungry desire she found burst shivers across her skin. His intentions were written clear on his expression, the message loud: There would be no further interruptions, no emergencies. No turning back.

Right now, there would only be here and now, him and her.

And sex. Lots of hot, needy, give it to me now sex.

His body screamed sex, muscular and powerful. And even if for only a fling, he was hers. And she was never one to look a gift horse, or armadillo, in mouth.

He stepped up to the table and grabbed her knees, bringing them up until she had no choice but to rest her heels on the table edge. She tried to scoot back, but he stopped her. Urged her back to lying on the table. So open and vulnerable. She’d started to rise up on her elbows to let him know she wasn’t comfortable until one long, slow, hot swipe of his tongue had her biting hers and nestling right back down onto the weathered wooden table.

When in Rome, she thought, feeling downright giddy.

Sensations became so strong, her knees shook beneath the powerful hands holding them wide open. Grace had long since lost count of how many sighs, squeals, and moans escaped her partially closed mouth. Her bottom lip would surely be swollen from all the times she’d bit down on it to keep from begging. Damien somehow knew when she rode close to coming and would switch locations just enough to keep her teetering on the edge. Denied her a quick release.

Finally he took mercy, and two long, thick fingers entered her right as he suckled her little bundle of nerves. It was just the thing. She didn’t shoot, she freaking supernovaed right off the edge. His pumping digits and strong suction had every nerve within her rippling and convulsing in perfect harmony. Never had she climaxed so hard and long. She would never, ever look at an armadillo the same way again.

She’d just gotten a grasp on her breathing when the table creaked. She eased up on her elbows and saw Damien climbing on top.

Another creak and before she could express her concerns over whether her antique furniture could hold their weight, another creak followed by the sounds of cracking wood ricocheted around the cabin.

She locked eyes with Damien just as table gave way beneath them.

“Oh crap.” she squawked, but to her utter amazement, Damien maneuvered them in midair.

“How … ” she began as his body took the brunt of the landing while ensuring hers was a cushioned fall.

He winked at her before planting an earth-shattering, soul-stealing kiss on her.

“Wrap your legs around me.” Husky, demanding and perfect sounding.

She did as he instructed and thought the bedroom his chosen destination. But again, Damien surprised her. And hit all kinds of right buttons she hadn’t even realized she owned.

He walked them toward the porch, grabbing the throw off the back of her couch as he passed, and opened her French doors. Though the night was chilly, nothing could have penetrated the heat rising from her. He sat her in the covered swing and spread the throw about the wooden planks.

Once he’d finished blanketing the area, he stood, naked under the moonlight, and held a hand out to her.

Grace looked at the beauty before her. The man who’d captured her imagination in such a short time, who was both wild and gentle just like the swamp she’d loved since a child.

The sky was clear, the stars out, the moon high and her heart full.

Never had a moment been more perfect.

Grace didn’t even mind the fuzzy throw was a bit itchy against her ass. Not when she was here with Damien under the soft romantic light of the full moon. A night of not being alone, of belonging, and hopefully the hottest damn sex of her life. Well, more than the hot they’d shared on the now broken table.

Damien settled over her and his expression was fierce. So full of intent and almost a wee bit of nervousness. She hadn’t a clue what someone like he, so capable and self-assured, ever had to be nervous about. Strong, gorgeous, hot and sexy as hell. Smart too.

“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.” His voice dropped low and husky, and the timbre even more than the words made her want to preen femininely.

“Thank you.” She didn’t care her voice stuttered. A naked, very ready, Damien hovered above and had just called her beautiful.

His knees parted hers, and before another thought registered in her lust-addled mind, he eased in. No hurried rush as displayed earlier. Slow, like he savored each inch within her.

In no time, he set the perfect mind blowing, friction-induring pace. Strong yet confined, and Grace sensed he struggled to hold back. Saw the proof of this etched in the hard lines of his face. Her gentle giant worried for her. Wanted romantic and soft.

Hell. She’d spent far too much time alone and with only the company of things requiring batteries. Now was the time for fast and hard.

Grace wrapped her legs around his waist and hooked her ankles together, thankful her long legs afforded her such leverage.

Thrusting her pelvis caught his attention and shredded his composure.

With a roar and shake of his head, Damien’s easygoing demeanor became aggressive, and she relished the change as something within herself seemed to snap. No longer content to be classic, graceful Grace, she wanted to make up for all the wicked, wanton sex she’d missed over the years.

“Rough.”

“What?” Damien asked through gritted teeth.

“Let go, Damien. I’m not a freaking porcelain doll. I need you. Like now!”

He’d needed no further encouragement.

He went up on his knees for better leverage, breaking her leg lock as rough hands gripped her thighs, spreading her wide open as he pummeled in and out. Finally, the glorious sensations of his hard to her soft, the taste of heaven she’d so terribly missed. Grace grabbed hold of his forearms, to help keep herself in place. Her nails scored indents in his shoulders, and though she’d be sorry later, for now it took all she had in her to keep from clawing him any worse. He may be the one who housed an animal within, but right now she’d have sworn she did. Damien called upon the wild something that had obviously lain dormant inside her for too long. She had no qualms letting her inner vixen out to play.

“Yes … please … oh God.”

Her walls stretched to the max by his sudden growth, and she realized he was as close as she to barreling over the fantastic edge of orgasm. Wouldn’t have thought he could get any larger, but he did. Everything in him seemed to change. The air around him held an odd charge about it.

His mouth set, jaw rigid and eyes shut, he roared, pumping into her before leaning over suddenly and claiming her lips with a fevered urgency. The kiss was electric and her toes curled in response to the primitive sounding grunts coming from him. Every muscle was bunched, straining, and then she followed him over the climatic threshold.

“Yes … ”

His warm seed filled her, and had Beth not said something about shifters not carrying human diseases, Grace would have panicked just then. But there’d been no need for protection. Though not sexually active, she’d been on a medication to aid with a few feminine issues, and the side effect happened to be a pregnancy blocker.

His weight was a decadent treat as he dropped, spent. He still held the bulk of his weight off her, but their bodies still touched at every nook and crook, and she loved it. Wanted nothing more than to stay physically connected with him under the stars by her beloved swamp. Grace nestled into his shoulder, and the musky scent wafting from him actually caused things to stir within again.

From no sex to nympho in one night. Wow. Had to be some kind of record.

Hell with it, I’ve earned the right to act the sex-starved woman.

Grace felt a light rumbling and realized he’d become aware of her heated state. She fell mute when his hardened girth returned in such rapid succession.

Something to be said for a shifter’s stamina
, she thought, grinning as he slowly began moving within her again.

An hour later and she couldn’t have moved if she tried.

Boneless, that’s what he’s made me,
she thought, sighing in pure content.

They laid under the stars until a slight rustling alerted her that sometime during their snuggling, she’d happily drifted off.

“The night’s grown from chilly to cold. I thought it best we head in,” Damien tightened his arms around her.

“I am rather chilled,” she agreed, shivering while trying to wake herself up a bit.

He’d taken about two steps when a rock flew past them.

“What the hell?” he snarled out into the dark.

Instinct made Grace cling to the blanket wrapped around her nude body. Damien turned and sat her on the porch swing and, still completely naked, took a protective stance before her. She should have been more concerned than she currently was over the fact someone chucked a rock at them. But watching Damien standing before her naked as the day he was born caused her mouth to go dry and befuddled her reactions.

“Who lurks like a peeping Tom? Announce yourself!” Damien demanded into the vast darkness of her property.