Lexi Blake - Dungeon Royale

One week of training. Sixteen days on the boat. She would hold his hand while they searched for the bad guy. She would have about a month with him and then they would go back to their normal lives. He would smile her way every now and then and she would do her work and go home to a nameless, faceless flat where she didn’t know anyone around her and no one cared about what she did or said.

Penny slid into bed, drawing the sheet and blanket around her. She turned on her side, but it was the wrong side because she could plainly see Damon laid out like god’s gift to women. And he obviously wasn’t cold.

She couldn’t help but stare at his male parts. His cock. His balls. They were just right there. His cock was as big as she’d imagined it. It was flush against his abdomen.

“Sorry. I took a cold shower. I tried to get it to die down.” He might say all the right things, but he didn’t pull the sheet up. He lifted his hips and let his legs lay open. “But the minute I saw you, it just had its own ideas. I want you, Penelope. I can’t help wanting you. Go to sleep and we’ll deal with everything tomorrow. You want to stay pure. We’ll see how that goes.”

She turned to the other side. She wouldn’t give in.

No matter how much she wanted to.

Sunlight brushed her skin and warmth encased her. So warm. She couldn’t help but rub against the strong body she lay next to.

Penny opened her eyes. Sometime in the night, she’d turned and cuddled close to him. Damon’s arm was around her, holding her to his chest, her arm around him. Her cheek rested against his heart. She could hear it. Damaged as it was, it still beat strong against her ear. She didn’t like to think about what had happened the day before. She’d watched him fall, watched his big body stop and then lose control. Damon shouldn’t ever lose control. He needed it so badly.

She knew she should move, but she couldn’t help it. She gave herself a moment to let the heat of his body wash over hers. All the reasons to hold herself apart from him were still there, but it suddenly seemed silly to not enjoy the man. She’d denied herself so much. Yes, there would be heartache, but wouldn’t it be better to ache than to feel nothing?

“Did you sleep all right?”

Penny looked up, startled, but when she would have moved away from him, Damon’s arm tightened slightly. “I did.”

He closed his eyes and sighed. “I did, too.”

Silence stretched out between them, but it was strangely comfortable. She let herself relax again. “When did I end up here?”

His chest moved as he breathed, and she found herself breathing in time to him. Her heart seemed to synch as well. “After you fell asleep. You tried to take all the blankets. I had to let you close to me just to stay warm.”

“I’m not used to sleeping with someone.” She let her eyes drift up.

Morning light softened him, making the gray of his eyes seem almost blue as they opened and he looked down at her. “The walking corpse never slept over?”

She stifled a laugh. Damon had a way with words, especially when he was insulting someone. He and his friend Ian had insulted each other all night. She might never understand men. “That’s a horrible thing to call him.”

Damon smiled a little. “Peter never slept over?”

“He said he slept better alone. He tried once but I snored and he left.” That was a terrible thought. “Did I keep you up?”

“With your little snuffles? No. He was an idiot, love.” He laid his hand over hers and took a long breath, seeming to settle back in. “I liked sleeping with you. I haven’t slept with anyone in a very long time. In fact, there hasn’t been anyone at all.”

That was a bit hard for her to believe. “Anyone?”

“I haven’t actually had sex since the shooting. I was worried the damn thing wouldn’t work, but I think it’s safe to say it’s waking up again.” His voice got serious. “I liked it. Last night, that is. I liked holding you. I liked how we kept each other warm. Kiss me, Penelope.”

“Damon.” It was a bad idea.

“You can’t even kiss me? We’re going to struggle on the boat if you won’t kiss me.”

He was right about that. She pushed herself up and looked down at him. He was a deliciously gorgeous beast of a man, every inch of him muscled and lean. His hair had lost its former perfection and a lock of black silk lay across his forehead.

What was she really afraid of? She was afraid of losing herself in him and then being utterly adrift when everything was over. She was afraid of not coming out on the other side of the affair with a whole heart, but she had agreed to this. She’d said yes, and that meant being braver than the old Penny. The old Penny never woke up warm and cradled against a man. The old Penny had accepted far less than was her due.

The old Penny would have given this man a peck and then run away. She didn’t want to be the old Penny any longer.

She reached out and touched him, her fingers on his face. Maybe she was looking at everything wrong. Maybe instead of holding back, she should take every moment and revel in it. He looked at her solemnly as she brushed her fingertips along his jawline, his whiskers tickling against her skin. She studied him, taking her time to memorize the way he looked. A sharp blade of a nose. Sensual lips.

He didn’t move, didn’t say a word, simply allowed her to explore, though she could feel the tension in him. Was he truly afraid she wouldn’t kiss him? Could a man like him really want her?

She couldn’t know if she never tried. This wasn’t a problem she could logic her way out of. She had to feel her way through it.

She let her lips find his skin, first his cheek and then along his jaw. She placed a kiss on his nose and one between his eyes. She smoothed back his hair.

“Penelope, I don’t want you to treat me like a boy you’re trying to soothe.”

She wasn’t going to let him rush her. “Hush, Damon. I’m enjoying this.”

His eyes flared slightly. “When we’re on a proper footing, I’ll spank you for that.”

Yes, she thought he’d do a lot of things when they were on “a proper footing.” It was why she had to enjoy the time she had with him now. “Because I’m a brat?”

She’d read the term, heard Ian complain about his wife being one. Of course, he’d said it all while petting her and holding her.

Those delicious lips curled up in a sexy grin. “I think you could be a spectacular brat, love. If you wanted to.”

She wanted to. All her life she’d been the perfect daughter, the one who got good grades and did her duty. Had she ever really grown out of the role and tried being a woman? She brushed her mouth across his forehead and then finally let her lips find his own. Warm, soft, but so firm. He let her have her way, allowing her to play along his skin.

Emboldened, she let her hand drift down, caressing the strong column of his neck and making her way to his shoulders and chest. A light dusting of hair covered his torso, making a neat triangle toward his abs. She traced the flat discs of his nipples, watching them peak the minute she got close. She let her hand move lower to his lean stomach. He twitched under her fingertips. The blanket covered him from his hips down, but it tented, his cock stretching the material up.

“Yes, that’s what you do to me.” His hands were fisting the sheet underneath him as though he had to hold on or he would reach for her and take over. “Seven months without a whisper and now he wants to play.”

He was giving her a gift, allowing her control when he needed it himself. He strained under her hands, his hips lifting when she got close.

This was why she was afraid. Because she didn’t want to stop with kisses. She wouldn’t want to stop at the end of the mission. She might never want to stop exploring Damon Knight.

“Give me more,” he demanded. “Kiss me. Use your tongue. Please, pet. I want it.”

She knew she should stop, but she couldn’t turn down his plea. There was a desperate quality to his tone that made her feel sexy, desirable. Maybe he was manipulating her, but he couldn’t fake the erection. It was difficult to believe that she was the cause, but the evidence was staring her in the face.

She lowered her head back to his and let her tongue run across his plump bottom lip, feeling her power when he shivered beneath her.

More. She wanted more. Her body was starting to sing in the way it only ever had for him. Her pussy softened, starting to pulse and get wet. She couldn’t deny it. Damon was her weakness, her odd joy, the one man who could bring her out of herself and into the world. She didn’t even want to deny it or him.

She let her tongue surge in, rubbing against his. Never before had she been so brazen, so bold, but then she hadn’t ever wanted anyone the way she did Damon.

They kissed, his tongue playing along hers, making her heart beat in a rapid rhythm. Alive. Maybe it was a farce on his part, but it was real for her, and she couldn’t let it rush by without reveling in it. Without saying yes to it.

“Let me take over,” Damon whispered, his deep voice pure seduction. “I can make it so good for you. We could be good together. So fucking good. Touch me. Touch my cock. Stroke me.”

She wanted to see it again, loved looking at him. One last kiss on his lips and she forced herself up.

“Damn it.”

She ignored him and pulled at the sheet, tugging it down. He hissed a little as his cock was exposed, but she couldn’t miss the satisfied smile on his face. He pressed his hips up, squirming a bit, like she had in the bathroom at her cousin’s wedding. Her first real orgasm. He’d given that to her. Didn’t she owe him something?