Free Unfaded Glory by Sara Arden Page B

against him in the water, soft, wet and slick. She braced her palms on his shoulders and bit her lip as she rolled her hips experimentally against him.
    The moonlight was a slash of light that knifed through the darkness and fell like a fey ribbon on her hair. Just like it would on the open dark sea. He wanted to bury himself in it, and her. It would be so easy to push her panties aside and drive home deep into her heat.
    Byron liked teasing them both a bit, too, dragging it out, making the sensation last. It had been a while since he’d been with a woman, and he’d never been with a woman like Damara Petrakis.
    He let her grind on him, work her hips and cleft against him and crank herself higher. Byron liked the way her lips parted and her intake of breath, the way the soft material of the tee clung to her. He liked everything about this.
    â€œTell me what you like. Tell me how to make this good for you,” she whispered against his ear.
    He thought of every deviant thing he’d imagined doing to her, every fantasy he’d had in the past twenty-four hours, and none of them compared with what was happening to him right now.
    â€œIt’s already good for me. Like you said, you don’t get to tour the cities we’ve been to, but you can tour me.”
    Her hands slid over his shoulders, his biceps, her fingers pausing to explore the muscle there. Testing his bulk, his strength. Damara scored her nails lightly down his chest, and his eyes fluttered closed at the sensation. So she did it again.
    Down his pecs, his abdominals and down lower still until she wrapped her hand around him.
    â€œWhat about this? Do you like it?” She moved her hand slowly.
    He curled his fingers around hers and applied more pressure, just a bit more speed. “Like this.”
    â€œI like how powerful your body is. How strong.”
    Her words were as intoxicating as her touch.
    His hips moved up to meet her caress and when he would have told her to stop, to slow down, she kissed him.
    â€œIt makes
me
feel powerful to do this to you,” she said against his mouth before kissing him again.
    Her kisses were sweet and had been almost chaste at first, but she learned quickly—tasting him, darting her tongue against the edge of his lip, making the same motions with her tongue against his in time to the strokes of her hand.
    She was almost too good to be true.
    Any minute he’d wake up and find it had all been a dream and he’d be spilling into his hand thinking about a woman who wasn’t real.
    Wave after wave of pleasure rolled over him in great swells until he was swept out to a sea of bliss.
    She was still kissing him even though her hand had stilled and he found he didn’t want to stop. When he did, he’d have to fall back to earth, be slammed back into a reality where he knew being with her was wrong.
    Damara felt so good in his arms—so right. The thought kept playing over in his head, as if that would make it all okay.
    It didn’t.
    He finally broke the kiss. “There’s a car coming for us in a few hours. We should be ready.”
    â€œOkay.” She seemed so fragile now, so breakable.
    Her lips were swollen and raw from his kisses and it made him want to kiss her more. Byron had to find the line again and remember that he couldn’t cross it.
    Yes, in just a few hours, he’d hand her over to another operative and she’d go stateside. He’d go back to his house and manufactured life in Marsala. Even though he’d never see her again, he’d think about tonight and the princess for a long time.
    â€œWhat should I put on?”
    She turned away from him and trudged up out of the Jacuzzi tub.
    â€œThere are clothes in the closet.”
    Her shoulders were squared, back straight, and she walked dripping, but regal, back inside their room.
    He looked up at the sky and then to Damara’s profile as she dressed. Byron couldn’t believe that