Free The Married Mistress by Kate Walker

cruel, painfully erotic images assailed her mind, forcing their way into her thoughts until she was gritting her teeth to hold back the cries of pain the recollections threatened to force from her.
    Damon would be standing under the pounding water, his tall, powerful body slick and wet. His eyes would be closed, springing black hair plastered down onto his skull, emphasising the shape of the strong bones, the line of his jaw. His long, muscular legs would be planted slightly apart, bronzed skin startling against the white of the shower-stallfloor, and his hands would be moving over his chest, spreading soap and foam over the wide ribcage, the narrow hips and down, down…
    ‘No!’ she moaned aloud, tossing restlessly as a flame of pure physical need shot through her, heating her blood in an instant. ‘No, I mustn’t think…’
    But she couldn’t not think, though the pain of her memories was almost more than she could bear.
    In the early days of their marriage, Damon had rarely, if ever, showered alone. On the morning after they had shared his bed for the first time, he had woken before her and had silently padded his way on bare feet across the room to the en suite bathroom. Then, as now, the sound of the shower had woken Sarah and, unable to stay where she was, needing desperately to see this man who had come to mean so very much to her in such an amazingly short time, she had followed him, as if attached by a thread that had drawn tight and tugged her close.
    He had already been in the shower, the steam from the water clouding the glass so that she could barely see him, and she had pulled open the door just a crack, meaning only to peep in. The faint touch of the cooler air had alerted Damon to her presence, making him turn. Sharply embarrassed by being caught acting like a peeping Tom in this way, Sarah had been about to hurry away, but, seeing her hotly pink face, the blush that washed her cheeks, Damon had laughed in good-humoured amusement.
    ‘Good morning, little wife,’ he had said softly. ‘Couldn’t you bear to be parted from me even for a second?’
    And when she could only shake her head, too tonguetied to be able to utter a word, he smiled a wide, triumphant, arrogantly satisfied grin.
    ‘I like that,’ he said, his voice thickening noticeably in the same moments that his body hardened, responded to her presence in a hotly aroused manner. ‘I like that a lot.’
    And he reached for her, opening the shower door to catch hold of her arm and pull her in under the water with him. Within seconds the fine silk of her nightdress was saturated, plastered against her body like a second skin, the water making it almost totally transparent.
    For a brief time Damon contented himself with smoothing the wet material against the lines of her body, the heat of his palms adding to the warmth of the water cascading down on her. When her nipples peaked wantonly, pushing against his hands, he bent his proud head and suckled her hungrily through the soaking silk, sending stinging arrows of pleasure down right to the central core of her being. But very quickly this ceased to satisfy him and he tugged the delicate nightdress from her body, tossing it carelessly to the floor and trampling it underfoot as he pressed her up against the wall of the shower cubicle and pushed his hand down between her legs…
    ‘No, no, no !’ Sarah moaned again, flinging the pillow against the wall and tossing off the bedclothes, too hot, too jittery to stay still any longer.
    She was out of bed and pacing restlessly around the room, struggling to get herself back under control, when she heard a new sound, that of a door closing, way down the long landing that separated them. Damon’s footsteps followed it, moving closer, past her room then down the stairs into the body of the house.
    He was up and about, then, and no doubt expecting that soon she too would make her way downstairs to start her day. She couldn’t stay here and hide all