Modern Romance July 2019 Books 5-8. Jane Porter

of the mattress. He moved over her, his knees parting her thighs, and then spreading them wider so that he could look down at her, and see all of her. “I do like you bare,” he growled.

      Her thighs trembled as his fingertip traced her cleft and then between her soft swollen folds.

      “So wet,” he said, voice dropping lower.

      She closed her eyes as he dipped a finger into her and spread the moisture up over her, teasing the hooded nub. She felt her hips lift, and arch as he did it again. And then he was there at her entrance, and pushing into her, his shaft so warm, instantly making her feel hot, and impossibly connected to him.

      Something happened when he was buried in her that made her want to hold on to him, and keep holding on, keeping him with her.

      She wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him down, wanting to feel him against her breasts, wanting to inhale his scent, wanting his warmth all around her.

      He said he was awful and didn’t feel, but that wasn’t true. He wasn’t as hard as he said he was, and clearly, he did have feelings. Damen might say he didn’t care, but actions spoke louder than words, and when he kissed her, a deep scorching kiss where his tongue took her mouth just as he took her body, he was warm and protective. All day he’d been attentive and protective, making her feel as if she truly was his.

      In a strange way, she felt as if she was the one who was supposed to be here, not Elexis. Elexis would never understand him, but she could. She would. She liked puzzles and challenges, and she was good at reading not just text, but subtext. And when she and Damen were together like this, it felt rather like perfection in an imperfect world.

      Together like this, she felt as if she belonged. She belonged with him. She belonged to him. For the first time in her life, she belonged somewhere.

      Kassiani shattered just as Damen began to come, their bodies climaxing together, and she welcomed his last hard, driving thrust, accepting everything he had, and everything he could give her. He was home.

      Moments passed, and Kassiani struggled to catch her breath, her thoughts cloudy, her body still floating.

      Their wedding night had been incredibly satisfying, but the lovemaking just now, and the orgasm she’d had, was, well, life changing. She liked being with him, even when he was edgy and dangerous. No one had ever challenged her in her life. Until now.

      She felt Damen shift, rolling onto his back, and he drew her against his chest. His skin was warm and slightly damp, and as she rested her cheek on his chest, she breathed him in. He smelled delicious. She inhaled the scent—man, sex and a spicy fragrance—and it crossed her mind that she needed to be careful. He was potent. She would need to guard her heart.

      “How do you feel?” he asked, lightly stroking her back.

      How did she feel? Amazing. Surely he knew that. She glanced up into his face, feeling rather lucky in that moment to have a husband who was famous for his shrewd business acumen and a threat in the boardroom, as well as gifted in the bedroom. “Good.”

      His hand continued the slow caressing of her back. His touch made her want to purr. “I hate that your family has treated you so shabbily. It makes me want to take your father apart, limb by limb.”

      She smiled crookedly, and stretched up to kiss him. “Please don’t do that, but thank you for being my protector. I’ve never had one before.”

      “I’m not a hero.”

      “No, you’re definitely more of a thug, but you’re handsome as heck, so it works for you.”

      He laughed, softly. “You’re one surprise after another.”

      “I hope that’s a good thing.”

      “It is.” He kissed her back, a hand threading into her hair, and the kiss flared into something hot and bright. “I hate to go, but I need to.”

      “Why do you need to go?”

      “I’ve been out of touch with the office all day. I’m sure there are dozens of emails and phone calls and matters awaiting my attention.”

      “Just stay a little longer. Stay and talk to me. Please?”

      She could feel him tense and she stroked his chest. “There is so much I want to know about you. Tell me about your work and family, tell me about your first girlfriend, tell me—”

      “That’s an awful lot to cover in five minutes.”

      “Okay, then forget all that. Just answer this. Have you ever been in love?”

      He hesitated. “No.”

      “That wasn’t very convincing.”

      He didn’t reply.

      “So you have been in love,” she persisted.

      Damen sat up and rolled to the side of the bed. “The less you know about me, the better. Knowing more about me would just lead to disappointment. I’m good at what I do because I’m focused and ruthless. I’ve perfected the art of not caring about others, or what they think.”

      “That can be a good thing in business.”

      “It’s who I am all the time. I don’t have different sides. Whether at work, or home, I’m the same. Unfeeling. Driven. Relentless.”

      She considered this a moment. “I don’t think you are all that. If you were, you wouldn’t care about what I want or need, and you wouldn’t take such good care of me in bed.”

      “That’s bed.”

      “Or on the island today.”

      “Don’t make too much of it.”

      “It’s more kindness and attention than I’ve had from anyone, ever.”

      Damen reached for her and rolled her onto her back, his big body angling over hers. “Don’t say such things. It makes me hate your family even more.”

      She reached up to brush his thick black hair back from his brow. “Don’t hate them. Hate is such a useless emotion.”

      “Hate can be powerful.”

      “You don’t need hate, and you don’t need more power.”

      His light gaze locked with hers and he stared intently into her eyes. “So what do I need, then, Little Miss Know-It-All?”

      “Maybe just how to be happy?”

      “Because you’re so happy?”

      “I’m happier than I have been in a very long time.”

      “Because you’re away from your family.”

      “Because I’m with you.”

      He made an incredulous sound and climbed off the bed. “Now you’re playing me for a fool.”

      She sat up, drawing the light crisp sheet with her to cover herself. “Why can’t I like you?”

      “Because we don’t have that kind of marriage. This is not a love marriage—”

      “I know. And I said like, not love,” she flashed irritably as he yanked on his clothes, first his shorts and then his shirt. “And right now, you’re being ridiculous but that doesn’t mean I don’t still find you likable.”

      “That is not part of our agreement.”

      “I’m sorry.”

      “If you’re sorry, why are you smiling?”

      “Maybe because you look really handsome right now.”

      He growled his frustration. “I’m not handsome right now, and I’m not likable, and we don’t have that kind of marriage, either.”

      “What kind is that?”

      “The kind where