The Married Mistress by Kate Walker Read Free Book Online Page A

greedy hands could have free access to the bronzed skin she sought, her fingers almost scrabbling his clothing out of the way in her rush to touch him.
    ‘Sarah—sweetheart—angel…’
    There was a shaken, rough note of laughter threading through Damon’s vain attempt at a protest, and the hands he brought up to try and catch at hers, to still them, or at the very least to slow their frantic, urgent movements, were as unsteady as his words.
    ‘There’s no need to rush—we have all day, the night…’
    But even as he spoke, his own actions denied the muttered restraint, the urge to caution.
    His movements mirroring Sarah’s, he pushed her blouse up and away from her skirt. The ominous wrenching, tearing sound told of the fact that he had completely forgotten that hers was not a stretchy T-shirt, and a second later there were several soft thuds as broken buttons flipped away and bounced on the dressing table, the window sill, the floor.
    ‘Forgive me…’
    He sounded only vaguely apologetic. If anything, he was even more distracted than before, his attention on the few remaining fastenings that still needed undoing.
    ‘I will buy you… Theos… ’
    The words died on his lips, and he froze into a sudden stillness. His silence tugged on her nerves, forcing her eyes to his face, to see the absorbed, intent expression there as he stared down at what his impatient movements had exposed.
    The wrenched and torn shirt lay askew and gaping over her chest. Below the pale green material, the creamy flesh of her breasts was lifted up and forward by the pink satin and lace of her bra, openly displayed for his gaze to feast on.
    ‘I had forgotten how lovely you were. Or, rather, I had remembered, but feared that my memory had played tricks on me. I told myself that you could not be so beautiful…’
    Jet-black eyes, in which the golden flames of desire burned savagely, lifted and blazed into her hazy green ones. And Sarah felt her heart flip over inside her as she saw the hunger and the need he didn’t trouble to disguise.
    ‘But I was wrong…’
    ‘You’re—you’re not so bad yourself.’
    Sarah’s tongue stumbled over the only words that would form in her mind.
    ‘You’re beautiful too. Quite beautiful, but…’
    ‘But…’ Damon echoed ominously, dark eyes narrowing swiftly, straight black brows drawing together in a frown at that impertinent and provocative ‘but’.
    ‘But you have too many clothes on.’
    ‘Is that so?’
    His quick, flashing grin was almost her undoing. The wide brilliance of it took her breath away, but there was something disturbingly triumphant in it that made her heart flutter in uncertainty.
    ‘Well, that’s easy to deal with.’
    In one swift, efficient movement, he pulled the white polo shirt up and over his head, exposing the bronzed and muscled torso, shadowed with curling black hair, that lay beneath.
    Sarah drew in her breath sharply then swallowed it down, her thoughts hazing swiftly. She half lifted her hand then dropped it to her side again, losing her nerve.
    Standing there like that, half-naked, only inches away, he was pure sensual temptation. She wanted to touch, wanted desperately to feel the warm, satin texture of his skin under her fingertips, longed to trace the powerful lines of the straight shoulders, the muscles sheathing the strong bones, the broad ribcage. But she didn’t dare. She felt like a child drawn to stick her fingers into a golden fire, yet knowing that she had been warned that to do so would bring devastation down on her head.
    ‘Go ahead,’ Damon murmured softly. He had caught the look on her face, the longing in her eyes. ‘Go ahead and touch. I won’t bite.’
    Sarah closed her eyes against the temptation. But in the same moment she knew she was going to give in to it. She couldn’t stop herself; couldn’t resist it. He might not bite, but she couldn’t help thinking that her own hunger, her own need would. She had been starved of the