My Immortal (Seven Deadly Sins #1)(53)
Author: Erin McCarthy

"It wasn’t an affair."

"Damien du Bourg."

"Yes, Marley Turner?" He sounded faintly amused.

"I think you and I need to make a pact to stop beating the hell out of ourselves and just move forward. Can we do that, you think? Both of us just live our lives." Marley yawned, ready to drop off to sleep. "Let’s do that."

"Is it that easy?"

"Yes." She had decided it could and would be.

"Okay, ma cherie. I don’t make promises I can’t keep, but I’ll try." He kissed the side of her head. "I’m falling asleep."

"Me too." Her eyes were closed, thoughts thick and hazy. And as she drifted off to sleep she felt entirely at peace with herself and her life.

Damien was warm and strong next to her, his breathing steady and silent, and it felt normal, natural, right to Marley to just slide in closer to him after she woke. At first, it had seemed a mystery to her why she felt the sense of familiarity, of ease, that she did with Damien. But she didn’t question it any longer. It was what it was, and she intended to enjoy it. They were together, for now, and it was freeing, exhilarating, not to question it, not to dissect or worry or contemplate the future.

There was only now, and that was a heady, satisfying feeling.

She didn’t even realize he was awake until his hand moved over her thigh. Enjoying the view she had of him with his eyes still closed, Marley kissed his mouth softly, rubbing her lips over the bristle on his chin.

It was different from that morning, as they touched slowly, with exploration, lips and hands and tongues testing, reaching, tasting. They peeled each other’s clothes off without urgency, not bothering to toss them off the bed, just letting them fall where they came off. Damien readjusted the thick covers, shoving the fat duvet down as their skin heated and dewy sweat gleamed on his chest.

Marley enjoyed his naked flesh, liked both the look and the feel of it, and she caressed his rock-solid backside languorously, with a lusty greed she had never felt before, had never indulged in. And while Damien’s fingers and mouth played over her ni**les and sank into her wet thighs, she explored his shaft, his testicles, learning the feathery movements that made him grit his teeth and his c**k jump.

It didn’t seem alien to touch that way, but intuitive, as if all along she had been a sensual woman, and had never understood herself. With Damien, she felt the power of her sexuality, felt the pride that came from making a strong man groan, and when he coaxed her with a gravelly, "Ride me, Marley," she didn’t hesitate. Tossing her hair back over her shoulder, she pushed him on his back and straddled his thighs.

Rubbing lightly against him, she paused to swallow, to catch her breath, to take in the sight of him staring up at her, his green eyes dark with desire. For her. His large masculine hands cupped her waist, slid up her sides to tweak her ni**les and cover her br**sts. The ache was everywhere, the pleasure complete, full, gorgeous, alive in her the way it never had been before, and she wanted to savor, to make it last forever.

But Damien said, "Take what you want now, or I’ll force it on you."

And since she wanted to own this pleasure, she sank herself down onto his erection, letting out an appreciative groan as he stretched her aching flesh. She moved her hips, pumping their bodies together, grinding herself and her swollen clit against him, digging her feet into the bed, sliding and rocking and losing herself in the sensation of him inside her. Damien held on to her hips and thrust up hard to meet her frantic movements, until they were both sweaty and hot and excited, their cries filling the bedroom, the antique bed slamming against the plaster wall.

She came first, which she expected to do. Damien didn’t seem the type to give in until a woman had been satisfied. Satisfied she was, screaming with total abandon, gripping the bedsheets, and snapping her head back. Damien followed suit, but with silent, feral thrusts, eyes rolling back, hips slamming up so hard Marley bounced forward.

They hung in that moment as long as possible, until Marley’s thighs shook and a funny little sensation tickled her throat from all the yelling she had done. With a cough and a sigh, she draped herself over his damp chest, stroking the hair there, content to let him rest inside her indefinitely.

"Let’s spend two nights here instead of one," he said softly.

"Sure." Because lying with him brought a sense of contentment she hadn’t known existed.

They spent the two days shopping in the Quarter, walking down to Jackson Square for café au lait and beignets, and getting naked together over and over again in that fluffy white bed. It was so wonderful, so easy, so delicious, that Marley started to suspect she was doing more than indulging.

She was falling in love.

Which was a mistake, but one she wasn’t sure how to correct.

So their last night at the town house, as they were drifting off to sleep, she probed about his wife, his infidelity, wanting to remind herself that he had a past, and a spotted one at that. He had a significant amount of guilt, and it would be disastrous to expect more from him than he could give.

"How did your wife find out about your affair?" she asked him, snuggling up alongside his hip.

He glanced over at her, obviously startled. But he answered the question. "She walked in on us."

"Oh." That wasn’t a pretty picture. "I guess she was upset."

"Yes, of course." His mouth was turned down in a frown. "Why do you ask?"

"I just want to understand what happened… I can tell you still feel guilt over it."

"As well I should. There was no excuse for what I did to my wife. Not anger, not alcohol. And I’ll never be able to undo it."

"Which is why you need to forgive yourself," she murmured. "Because you can never undo it."

"Maybe someday. But not today."

"Who was she, by the way? A co-worker?"

"It was Rosa."

"Oh." It didn’t surprise her any more than it pleased her. The last person she wanted to picture Damien making love to was exotic, thin Rosa. "I see."

But it was a full eighteen hours before Marley realized the significance of Damien’s admission.

Chapter Fifteen

Treks to Anna’s were starting to take on a pattern. Marley had burning curiosity, she ran to Anna, and Anna only fueled the fire of her imagination.

When she had suddenly realized this morning what Damien had said as they were dropping off to sleep the night before, she found herself yet again on the path to Anna’s. Damien was working in the pigeonnier, reading his e-mails, and Marley had been walking in the garden, imagining what it had looked like once upon a time, when it had been tended and controlled, when she remembered that Damien had said he’d cheated on his wife with Rosa.