Tethered To Your Heart

Chapter-7

Sensitive, Lia thought. Her skin quivered in delight as deliciously dreamy fingertips ran across the top of her shoulders and explored their way down the waist. Lia was suddenly very glad she had changed into this bra-less sundress. She felt, rather than heard, the slight expulsion of breath as she leaned against him, slowly moulding the fullness of her breasts to the firm pectoral muscles that her hands had found earlier. It felt more than good. Superlatively right. His hands slid up to an erotic point beneath the underswell of her breasts, lingering there when her body gave a convulsive little shudder of pleasure. His lips grazed across her forehead, over her eyelids, down to her ears, imprinting gentle little kisses that told her how exquisitely feminine he found her. They moved slowly over her own lips, making sensual arabesque shapes, moulding and remoulding, pliable, supple, persuasive. Lia was totally entranced with what he was doing. Her mind flooded with the image of him kissing her all over.. .just like this...and the desire for him to do so spread like wildfire through her veins. Her fingers undid the top buttons of his shirt, picked their way over the sparse curly hair below his throat, then slid to the smooth strength of his shoulders. An involuntary tremor shook his body. His mouth suddenly hungered over hers, powered by impulses that went too deep to contain. The new compelling thrust of his kiss tore restraint into meaningless shreds, seductive persuasion splintering into driving possession, sensuality exploding into raw passion. His hands dropped to her hips, pulling her into more provocative contact with him, inflaming the need that vibrated through both of them. Her fingers climbed up the back of his neck, clutching blindly as their mouths fused in a wild craving for deeper intimacy. Her breasts ached with longing for his touch. She could feel the urgency of his excitement through the thinness of her dress, and strained even closer in exultant response.

A low, guttural sound broke from Damien's throat as he wrenched his mouth from hers. In a whirl of movement that left Lia dizzy and breathless, he swept her off her feet and set off down the line of roses, his arms crushing her against his heaving chest as his long, powerful legs strode the distance to the gazebo. She felt his heart thumping as madly as hers, saw the feverish glitter of purpose in his eyes, heard the harsh rasp of his breath, and knew he urgently wanted to finish what they had started this time. She had never felt so excited in her life. Inside the gazebo there was a large circular lounging couch, but at the last second Damien seemed to hesitate over laying her down on it. He half swung away, inhaled deeply, then set her feet on the floor beside it. Inexplicably he moved back a pace, his hands spanning her waist, forcibly holding her away from him. Every line of his face was strained from the control he was fighting to attain. His eyes were dark pools of raging turbulence. 'I'm mad...' The words rasped from his lips, gravelled with the conflicting pressures of rampant desire and ingrained self-discipline. 'I only planned to -'
'I want you...' The cry burst from her, totally uncaring of any consequences. She didn't want him planning or calculating anything, and she couldn't bear for him to retreat from her again, to leave her not knowing... She snatched one of his hands from her waist. Slowly she lifted it. As she spread it over the soft fullness of one of her breasts and held it cradled there, her heart leapt its wild approval. Her eyes recklessly defied him to deny that it was what he wanted too. Everything within her rebelled against his struggle for control, and the urge to break him to her will was like a mad fever through her brain.
Rosalia gasped as Damien's mouth washed over the tingling voluptuousness of her breasts. It was so long since she had been with a man that her nipples ached with need. Her back arched, instinctively offering ... tempting...urging him to take what she so desperately wanted him to. It was magic... sweet torture... exquisite fulfilment... his mouth teasing, provoking, taking each throbbing areola and drawing an intense response which rippled through her entire body. Her hands clutched at the taut muscles of his shoulders, clawed wild patterns through his thick black hair, clutching him to her in an ecstasy of satisfaction. She moaned his name...this incredible man who could do this... who could make her feel so much... He lowered her on to soft cushions, slid her clothes away, touched her... his gentle fingers caressing with erotic tenderness, delivering their sensual message of what was to come, building need and want and anticipation into craving, rampant desire. She cried out in mindless protest when he lifted himself away. Her eyes flew to his in wordless eloquent pleading, but the plea was swallowed up by an intense wave of satisfaction as she realised that what he was doing was what she wanted. She could have lain here forever under the magic of kisses and caresses, but she wanted the pleasure of feeling his nakedness against her own... stroking him... kissing him... learning all there was about him. His eyes looked as black as coals, yet they flamed with intense desire, raking over the voluptuous curves of her body as he stripped away the last of his clothes. He was beautiful, Lia thought, from the rough, springy curls on his chest to the taut calf muscles of his strong legs. The wild disarray of his dark hair and the burning intensity of his eyes gave his face an Odyssean look that made her heart contract with a strange feeling she had never experienced before. He was very special, this man...unique. He was even more magnificent naked than he had been in clothes. And he was hers! Damien felt he could feast his eyes on his Rose forever. She was perfection... the woman he had always been waiting for...wanting... He had never had a woman like her, and he knew with a terrible certainty that there never would be another like her. He was riven by the need to possess and the urge to prolong this incredible experience as long as he could. Yet the chemistry of his body wouldn't let him. Lia held out her arms and he came to her. The movement of his body against hers was lithe and graceful. She loved the feel of him...the touch of him... so strong... so powerful... so intoxicatingly male. She rubbed her thighs against his, slid her hands over the taut muscles of his body, pressed her lips to the throbbing pulse-beat at the base of his throat. A hoarse cry was driven from his lips and he bent down to take her mouth with his. It was fire and nectar....storm and bliss...and then he was kissing her all over, driving her into a frenzy of need so that Lia barely knew what she was doing... heaving, writhing, quivering in response, clawing at him until at last he gathered her to him, unable to contain himself any longer.