Midnight Blueprints

The silence in the penthouse drafting room was deafening, broken only by the furious rattling of the floor-to-ceiling glass as the first flurries of the blizzard battered Chicago.

Sienna’s breath caught in her throat. Her heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped falcon. "Damien... don't. We have a contract to deliver."

"To hell with the contract," Damien growled in a low, gravelly timbre that vibrated against her skin.

His large hand tightened on her waist, pulling her flush against his hard, towering frame. Sienna gasped as her breasts collided with his muscular chest, the heat radiating from him scorching through her cashmere sweater. Before she could utter another word of protest, Damien’s other hand tangled into the thick raven waves of her hair, tilting her head back, and his mouth crashed down upon hers.

The kiss was a savage, breathless collision of five years of suppressed hunger.

It wasn't gentle; it was a claiming. Damien’s lips were hot, demanding, and merciless, parting her mouth with a low, primal groan as his tongue swept inside, tasting her with desperate, ravenous intensity.

Sienna’s brain screamed at her to push him away, to slap his arrogant face and maintain her professional boundaries. But her body betrayed her completely. A wave of liquid fire exploded low in her belly, melting every defense she had spent years building. She whimpered into his mouth, her hands moving instinctively to his broad shoulders, her fingers digging through his dress shirt into the hard muscle beneath.

Damien groaned, lifting her effortlessly off her feet and setting her onto the wide mahogany drafting table, sending rolls of vellum and drafting pencils scattering across the floor. He stepped between her parted knees, his rigid erection pressing hard and heavy against the apex of her thighs through her jeans.

"Tell me you hate me, Sienna," Damien panted against her jawline, his lips trailing burning kisses down the sensitive curve of her throat, his teeth lightly nipping at her pulse point. "Tell me to stop, and I'll walk away."

Sienna arched her neck, shivering violently as shockwaves of pleasure rippled through her veins. "I hate you, Damien Vance... I hate you so much..."

"Liar," he growled, his hands sliding beneath her cashmere sweater, his calloused palms searing her bare skin as he pushed the fabric up over her head and tossed it aside.

In the dim ambient glow of the city lights filtering through the blizzard, Sienna sat clad only in a black lace balconette bra. Her pale porcelain skin glowed against the dark mahogany table, her breasts heaving with ragged breaths.

Damien stared at her with an expression of fierce, reverent awe. "You are magnificent, Sienna. A masterpiece."

He unclasped her bra with one fluid flick of his fingers, casting it to the floor. His head bent down, his hot mouth taking her right nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the tight, sensitive bud while his hand cupped the full weight of her other breast.

"Ah! Damien!" Sienna cried out, her back arching off the table, her fingers digging into his dark hair, holding him against her chest. The sensation was so intensely sharp and sweet that tears of ecstasy pricked her eyes.

He suckled each breast in turn, driving her to the brink of madness, his hips grinding rhythmically against hers. Sienna could feel the sheer size and heat of him through their clothes, a heavy, throbbing ache that matched the desperate, dripping need pooling between her legs.

Damien pulled back, his amber eyes burning with unvarnished lust. He unbuttoned her jeans with trembling urgency, sliding the denim down her long, toned legs along with her matching black lace panties, letting them fall to the floor.

He stepped back for two seconds, stripping off his shirt, kicking off his shoes, and pulling down his trousers and boxers.

Sienna gasped in the dim light. Damien was built like a dark god—broad shoulders tapering into a chiseled torso, washboard abs, and a thick, formidable erection that stood proud, heavy, and wet with pre-release.

He stepped back between her thighs, his hands gripping her knees, pushing them wide. His fingers slid between her swollen folds, finding her soaking wet and trembling with fierce anticipation.

"Look at me, Sienna," Damien commanded in a husky, raspy growl, leaning down until his amber eyes locked onto her sapphire gaze. "No more rivals. Tonight, you belong to me."

He pressed the broad head of his cock against her entrance, paused for a heartbeat, and then thrust forward with a slow, powerful stroke, burying himself completely inside her tight, burning heat.

The thunder rattled the steel framework of Vance Tower, but inside the drafting suite, the storm between their bodies was an all-consuming fire.

Damien’s hands were everywhere—hot, rough, and demanding. He traced the slender arch of her spine, cupped the soft curve of her bottom, lifting her effortlessly higher onto the mahogany table until she was completely at his mercy. His mouth devoured hers with bruising, desperate hunger, parting her lips with a low groan as his tongue swept inside, claiming her with savage mastery.

Sienna whimpered into his mouth, her fingers tangling into the soft dark hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer. Every rational defense, every bitter memory of lost bids and competitive animosity evaporated like mist in a furnace. Her body was screaming for him, aching with a primal, ravenous need that only this powerful, arrogant man could satisfy.

"Look at how wet you are for me, Sienna," Damien growled against her throat, his long fingers parting her glistening folds, his thumb rubbing across her hypersensitive clitoris in slow, torturous circles.

Sienna cried out, her back arching off the table, her fingernails biting through the fabric of his dress shirt into his muscular shoulders. "Damien! Ah... God, Damien, please!"

"Please what, sweetheart?" he rasped, his teeth grazing the sensitive cord of her neck, sending shockwaves of electricity directly between her thighs. "Tell me what you want from your rival."

"I want you inside me," she pleaded, her voice thick and shameless with desire, her sapphire eyes dilated with passion. "Take me, Damien. Right now."

A feral, possessive rumble vibrated deep in Damien's chest. He gripped her hips with bruising strength, positioning his broad, weeping head at her soaking entrance. His amber eyes locked onto hers with terrifying, breathtaking intensity.

"Hold onto me, Sienna," he commanded in a low, husky growl. "Because I'm never letting you go."

With one slow, magnificent surge of his hips, Damien buried his thick, heavy length completely inside her tight, burning depths.

The storm raged against the high peaks of the skyline, throwing sheets of white ice against the windows with relentless fury. But in that moment, as Damien's broad, muscular chest pressed against her bare skin, the cold world below ceased to exist. For five years, Sienna had guarded herself behind rules, calculations, and cold professional pride, terrified that letting anyone close would diminish her independence. But in Damien's arms, under his starving, worshipful touch, she didn't feel diminished; she felt completely, magnificently alive. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling his lips down to hers, meeting his fiery hunger with all the fierce, unbridled passion she had kept locked inside her soul.