Suddenly she felt like she was being smothered. As if something was pressing on her chest and stopping her from breathing.
"Wait," she said, pushing Damien away. "We can't. I can't."
He blinked at her. "No, you have to," he said thickly. "I have to. Abbey, I need you—" He stopped and looked down, drawing in a deep breath. He ran a hand through his already messy hair and sat back. She could tell he was struggling with his inner turmoil, desperately trying to regain his composure.
"If you don't want to, I understand."
It didn't sound like it, Abbey thought. Nor did it look like it—his c**k protruded from his shorts, thick and throbbing. Ready. Abbey swallowed. She wanted him inside her again. Very much. Lucy's voice crept into her brain: "His marriage is already over or she wouldn't have come to us. Just go in there and enjoy some unbridled sex for once in your life. It doesn't mean anything. Not to him, not to you and not to his wife. Got it?"
Abbey had nodded then and she nodded now.
"Yes. I do want to."
She pulled Damien to her and kissed him. Her hands descended to his trousers and she tugged them down, then his shorts, so she could gaze at him unhindered. His florid erection was beating strongly in anticipation.
She touched it and he drew away, just out of her reach.
"Not yet," he rasped.
She looked into his eyes and felt something pass between them. Something that simmered in the heat. Something intense.
He tenderly stroked her cheek. She closed her eyes and reveled in his soft, sure touch. The movement was so delicate, so sweet. Almost loving.
Damien lifted Abbey off the couch, unzipped her skirt and pulled it down over her legs and ankles. He sat back on his haunches beside the couch and let out a sigh as he gazed at her body.
"You're fabulous, Abbey." He stroked her calf, her thigh, brushed her moist lips with a teasing finger. "So beautiful," he whispered.
Abbey's breathing turned heavy as that hand delicately explored, teased. A few more strokes and she would be lost in delicious torment, begging him to take her.
But Damien stopped.
"I want you to turn away from me Abbey." His voice was low, intense and oh-so sensual.
She obeyed. Something inside her wanted to do everything he asked her to do. For some reason she couldn't fathom, she trusted him. Trusted that he was going to give her an experience she would not forget.
She sat on the couch, facing the armrest. She felt the couch behind her move under his weight as he sat down.
"Now get on your knees." She did as she was told, eager anticipation heating her. "And open your legs. Good. Now move back so you're sitting on my lap."
Abbey wiggled backwards until she felt Damien's knees. He was kneeling too, his legs together. She settled herself on his thighs, her legs on either side of his. His erection rose up between her back and his stomach. It pulsed quietly, the movement sending a shudder of anticipation through her.
His left arm snaked around her, pinning her arm to her side. He touched her right breast, cupping its weight in his hand, massaging, up and around, until it was erect. A spasm shot from her breast to her inner thighs. Abbey sighed deeply and relaxed into him.
"Good," he murmured. His other hand came round her right side and lightly played along her thigh, moving inwards slowly. The sensation sent her skin tingling under his touch.
His fingers gently parted her and caught the sensitive little knob. He tugged and she moaned. Her head rolled back onto his shoulder and he kissed her exposed neck lightly.
With excruciating slowness, he rubbed her sensitive spot, up and down, and she fought back the urge to cry out, to let the orgasm come.
"You're so wet, Abbey," he whispered into her ear. "Do you want me?"
She drew in a deep ragged breath and let it out slowly, trying to calm herself. "Yes," she muttered in a voice not her own. The sensations were beginning to swamp her, and no amount of deep breathing could stop her mounting climax.
Then he stopped. What the Hell for? She moaned in desperation.
"Do you want me Abbey?" he whispered again. She let out a small cry of protest at the tease, nodded quickly and wiggled against his hand. He moved it just out of her reach. "Good. Because I want you. Badly."
Abbey whimpered. Every pore of her body screamed for those fingers, wanted them to penetrate her, rub her. "Now. Oh, please, now."
Just as she thought she couldn't stand it any longer, the hand cupped her. Then one long finger entered her, withdrew, and entered again. His palm rubbed against her pulsing little nub. Picking up speed, he repeated the motion until the waves finally engulfed her, offering amazing relief as she rocked in time to his hand, arching her back, thrusting her br**sts forwards as his left hand squeezed a tender nipple.
Nick waited until Abbey's shuddering ceased. He kissed her neck while he waited, breathing in her heady scent. She was incredible, the way she moved, the way she responded with complete abandon, utter trust and raw emotion.
He waited until he could wait no more. The movement of her back against his erection had sent his pulse rate rising and he was almost ready to explode between them.
"Abbey," he whispered, "oh, Abbey." He couldn't stop saying her name. He loved the way it sounded. He loved the way her skin formed little bumps every time he said it.
"Damien—"
He placed a finger over her lips. "Don't say my name," he said huskily. "Please don't say it."
She nodded, confusion in her eyes, but she didn't question him. Instead, she licked the finger at her lips, sucking it into her mouth.
Then she took charge. She pushed him back onto the couch, then knelt above him, lowering herself. A deep groan emanated from his throat as she touched his throbbing tip. His eyes watched her as she settled down on him, then bulged as she swallowed him whole inside her. She was hot and wet and just the feel of her sucking him into her slickness brought him quickly to the edge. She leaned forward, her hands beside his head on the couch and pumped him hard. Then just as he thought he was going to explode inside her, she stopped. She smiled wickedly down at him.
"Abbey," he croaked. "Don't. Not now." He thrust his hips up to meet her, but she moved, just enough so he couldn't reach.
"Do you want me?" she asked with a sly grin.
He closed his eyes and nodded. "Damn it, Abbey, yes." What was she doing? This was torture. If she was trying to pay him back for teasing her the same way a moment ago, then it was working.
Unable to stand it any longer, he took her hips in his hands, then thrust upwards again, a mighty effort that made her gasp as he lunged deep inside her.