The Tycoon's Secret(49)
"I thought you said no more, Sierra," he taunted as he kissed the corner of her mouth, his tongue moistening her dry lips.
"No, I want more. Please, Damien. Please give me more," she begged. She didn't care. She needed him.
At her pleas, he stopped taunting her and with a smooth, strong push, he buried himself deep inside her heat, nearly lifting her from the log with the power of his thrust.
"Yes, like that. More," she panted as he pulled out and quickly pushed back inside.
"You're so hot, Sierra, so hot and tight. I can barely think when I'm buried inside you. I want nothing more than to pound against you so hard you won't be able to move for a week," he panted as his movement quickened.
"Yes, do it hard, Damien," she encouraged.
He groaned as his hands gripped her hips roughly and he began thrusting his hips quickly in and out of her wet heat. She felt the build-up of another orgasm, welcomed the pressure starting in her stomach and radiating outward.
Her body tensed as his steel penetrated her, moving in and out in lightening quick movements, touching her to the very depths of her womanhood. She felt her body gripping him tighter, felt his smooth rod filling every available inch of space inside her.
With a hard thrust that rocked her entire body, Sierra shattered around him, her body coming undone as the pleasure peaked and she gripped him in convulsions, causing him to cry out as he slammed against her a few more times before he finally stilled.
His head came down and rested on her shoulder as he slowly started regaining control of his breathing.
He looked up, the last of the evening light barely illuminating his face. She was speechless as she gazed into his emerald eyes, which were radiating pleasure.
"Please feel free to run from me anytime you want," he said as his lips turned up into a cocky grin.
Sierra was dumbfounded for a moment until she realized it would be pretty hard to pull of indignation considering he was still firmly locked inside of her and she was naked in his arms. She could either get upset, or decide to let it go.
"You weren't half bad," she mocked him.
His brows furrowed as he looked at her. She could tell he was trying to decide if she was taunting him, or if she really felt that way.
"Not half bad? Well, I guess I'll just have to do it better this time," he said with a smile before his mouth descended on hers.
By the time they found their clothes in the dark and made their way to the car, Sierra was practically frozen and could barely walk, but it was certainly the most exciting trip she'd ever had to a park.
Chapter Twenty
"Look, Damien, you've proven that I want you. You've shown me a world of emotions and sensations I never even imagined existed before meeting you," Sierra started.
"Why do I get the feeling there's a but coming up?" he asked, his tone wary.
" – But … " Sierra paused, "This isn't a good idea. Yes, the sex is great, but I'm in no way capable of having a cheap affair followed by you discarding me like yesterday's trash."
"You think pretty little of me, obviously," he stated, his tone turning cold.
"It's not that I think little of you, it's that I know how men like you work."
The truth of what she said – his original intentions – stung as if she'd slapped him across the face. Had he not let his heart become involved, he certainly would've discarded her without a second thought. The reality was that he had let his heart complicate the matter. He enjoyed her company … her laughter … her femininity. Her words stung, causing him to disguise the pain with the coldest chagrin. Damien Whitfield was never denied.
They were silent for the rest of the drive to his house. Sierra looked weary as she followed him inside his home.
He walked to his study with her slowly trailing behind. His first stop was his liquor cabinet. He needed to soothe his wounded ego. After a shot of whiskey, which he hated, he could feel the effects numbing the ache in his chest.
"What would you like to drink?" He said, turning to her.
"I'm fine," she answered as she nervously licked her lips.
He poured her a glass of red wine and walked over, handing her the glass. She lifted it to her lips and automatically took a sip.
"This is ridiculous, Damien. The silent treatment isn't helping. You said you wanted to talk about the work issue, then let's talk about it. I don't want to talk about the sex thing anymore."
"You work for me. What else is there to understand," he said as he crowded her personal space. She backed up and sat down in one of his chairs.
"I don't know what my job is. It's still unclear as to why you even hired me," she said as she stepped back. "You're my assistant. Your job is to do whatever I need you to do," he reminded her.