LITMIR.BIZ

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“I ordered the three dishes on the menu with cheese—you need calcium. But I made sure there was none of the soft cheese you can’t have while pregnant.” He looked up, one corner of his mouth curved in a lazy grin when he saw her surprise. “I’ve done some research.”

      Touched that he’d given so much thought to the ordering, she watched as he lifted lid after lid, working through the dishes he’d ordered for her. A lump grew to fill her throat.

      By the time he came to the sixth dish, her plate was piled so high it resembled more a small mountain than dinner.

      She laughed and threw up her hands. “That’s enough. I’ll never be able to eat all of this.”

      He nodded and continued piling new dishes onto his plate. “Just eat what you can. You and the baby need sustenance.”

      She waited for him to finish serving himself before tasting. The food was divine, just like the other five-star places Damon had taken her when they’d dated. But more than the food affected her.

      Watching Damon eat, dressed only in a bathrobe, kept her blood simmering and her senses on high alert. The robe’s wide gap at his chest gave her an unobstructed view of his strong, cleanly shaven throat, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed.

      He held out his fork to her. “Try this. It’s one you don’t have.”

      Lily hesitated, breath catching in her chest. He’d fed her from his fork before, and occasionally from his fingers, like the night he’d fed her mango slices in bed. The memory of the sensual delights that night had brought dropped her mouth open and she accepted his fork.

      The light-as-air pumpkin soufflé melted on her tongue. “Mmm, fabulous.” Her eyes drifted closed to make the most of the flavor, licking her lips for any remnants.

      “I’ll tell you what’s fabulous,” Damon said in a husky voice. “That licking noise you’re making. Here, try this one.”

      Her eyes flew open as she realized how it must look from his position. She felt the blush creep up her neck. “Ah, no thanks. I have enough here.” It wasn’t fair to tease him, lead him on, when she had no intention of sleeping with him. Heaven knew, she certainly shouldn’t have let him kiss her ear earlier. Her guard had to stay in place.

      Then again, a voice taunted in her mind, Damon never needed encouragement. He always knew what he wanted and right now he wanted her.

      “Well, let me try some of yours. I didn’t get any of that creamy cheese dish,” he said, pointing to the side of her plate. “I left it in case you wanted seconds.” His lips sat parted for a second before he added, “Just a taste.”

      The rasp in his voice called to her and without thinking, she lifted her fork to his mouth. She instantly regretted it when his lips clamped around her fork. He held it between his teeth, his eyes intense as they captured hers as surely as he’d captured the fork.

      Then he let the clean fork slide free, chewed leisurely and swallowed. “I’ve dreamed of tasting you again. Your lips … your skin. Your essence.”

      Lily couldn’t speak, could barely breathe. She was baking inside, melting, needing his touch. She’d never had so skilled a lover as Damon, one who so thoroughly reveled in her body and in her pleasure. What she wouldn’t give to experience that again. Just for one night.

      No! She flinched at the physical pain of breaking eye contact, as if she was being torn in two. It took everything she had to take another mouthful and chew, pretending she was unaffected when she was ready to combust. Damon knew her weakness for his body. She suspected he knew that any woman would have a weakness for his skills once they’d experienced them. And one thing she knew about her new husband—he wouldn’t hesitate to use any means at his disposal to get what he wanted.

      And what he wanted was his father’s company … and that meant keeping her with him until their baby was born so it would be legitimate. He’d use any means at his disposal—including seduction—to keep her in the marriage until then. Her heart clutched tight. She must be strong. Not put one night’s passion ahead of her baby’s needs, or she’d risk her child’s future, the chance for her baby to have a stable and secure childhood—something that meant more to her than anything.

      On autopilot, she kept eating—food on her fork, chew, swallow, repeat. With nerves jangling, the taste of the dishes no longer registered; all she was aware of was the man across from her. Without looking, she knew he watched her, could feel his gaze as a physical touch.

      “You seem tense.” His voice was so low it was almost a growl.

      She didn’t answer. Instead, she focused on her food, the only hunger she could safely assuage.

      With slow, deliberate movements, Damon stood and moved behind her chair. “I can help with that tension in your shoulders.” His hands gently kneaded her shoulders, and his heat seeped through her satin pajamas and robe as if he’d touched her bare skin.

      She twisted away. “Damon, we’ve talked about—”

      He maneuvered her back against the chair and cut off her words. “It’s not the time for talking.”

      His fingers massaged deeply, with wonderful pressure and sensuous movements, spreading heat across her tired muscles. The relaxing rhythm of his hands through the slippery material lulled her into a place of mindless, sensual bliss. No one had touched her this way since … Damon. Her body, starved for warmth, soaked up his attention.

      His newly shaven jaw scraped deliciously over her ear. “Better?”

      His voice flowed across her skin. Perhaps just a moment longer. She tilted her head forward. She was so tired, her muscles were in knots, and Damon’s hands were oh, so skilled. Might as well enjoy the massage he offered. She sighed and relaxed back into the intoxicating familiarity of him.

      “Better,” she relented on a sigh.

      He reached around and loosened her robe then, slipping his fingers beneath the collar, he let it fall from her shoulders. Consumed by his touch, she couldn’t find the wherewithal to even protest; only a distant part of her mind warned that she was inviting trouble. Inviting bliss. He parted her silky top a little and dipped his hands inside to keep rubbing her shoulders, skin on skin.

      “Your muscles are so tight. You need to relax.” His voice was easy, as soothing as a friend advising a friend—a well-timed tactic, she knew. He confined his hands to her shoulders, but this was more than a platonic massage, it always was with his touch. Her breasts tightened, their tips aching for his caress, and a dull throb pulsated at her core. Against her better judgment, her body was responding to his.

      “Let go of all that tension you’re holding, Lily.” This time his voice dropped to a seductive whisper. Totally absorbed in the exquisite sensations, she let her chin fall to her chest. A small moan escaped her throat.

      “Just relax.” She felt his hands joined by his hot, wet mouth. He used his tongue and teeth in conjunction with his hands, amplifying the effect, dragging her deeper under his thrall.

      When his hands slipped farther under her top to her breasts and ran across their tips, she almost dissolved into a pool of desire, her last remnants of self-control hanging by a frayed thread.

      Yet she somehow forced the whisper out. “Damon, I’m already pregnant. We don’t need to have sex.” He was using her, she knew it, but his hands on her felt so good, their touch scrambled her brain.

      She gasped when he cupped each breast and feathered moist kisses down the back of her neck. “If we’re talking about need, don’t doubt that I need you,” he ground out. “What I feel when I’m near you has always been beyond want.”

      Lily bit her lip, her mind slowly waking to find itself at war with her body. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

      “We’re married. We want each other.” He nipped at the spot where her neck curved into her shoulders, continuing to use his knowledge of her body against her.

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