The Billionaire's Intern (Maya Thompson) novel Chapter 230

Chapter 112: His Touch, Her Surrender-1

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The cabin pulsed with heat-not from the crackling fire, but from them, from the aching nearness of two bodies drawn together, from the hunger coiled tight between each breath. On the couch, tangled in an intimacy that left no space for air or doubt, the world outside fell away. There was only the firelight, the silence between heartbeats, and the slow, relentless burn of desire.

Maya lay stretched out on the couch, the firelight painting her skin in a soft golden glow. Damien sat beside her, leaning over, his presence shadowing hers-close, consuming. His hand slid down with unhurried intent, finding the slit of her dress. With a slow push, the fabric gave way, and his palm found the bare silk of her thigh.

He caressed her in languid strokes, fingers trailing up and down, leaving heat in their wake. Every pass sent a shiver through her, her body arching instinctively into his touch. Her lashes fluttered shut, lips parting as she bit down softly, holding back the flood of sensation. But it was useless-the electricity of him was too much, too sharp, too alive.

A soft, helpless moan escaped her throat, low and trembling, betraying her surrender. Another followed as his touch deepened its rhythm, coaxing her body to answer him, to crave more. Each sound only pulled his gaze darker, hungrier, as if every breath she gave belonged

to him.

Damien’s mouth descended in a trail of fire, each kiss pressing lower down the delicate line of her chest. When his lips brushed the swell of her breast through the thin fabric of her dress, Maya’s breath caught. She arched into him without thought, as though her body craved the warmth of his mouth, the burn of his skin. A soft, aching sound slipped free, trembling against the quiet.

His hand moved with intent, sliding lower until it found the curve of her thigh, the slit of her dress parting beneath his touch. His fingers traced upward in a slow, maddening journey, every stroke deliberate, coaxing her higher with nothing but anticipation. When he reached the lace edge of her panties, he lingered-teasing, stroking, savoring the way her body

trembled for him.

Then his touch grew firmer, pressing through the delicate barrier, and he felt it-the heat of her, damp and waiting, desperate for more. Maya gasped, her hips lifting into his hand, a plea unspoken but undeniable.

She moaned-low, helpless, raw. The sound slipped from her throat without thought, her body betraying her need as she shivered beneath his touch. Her lips parted, his name escaping in a trembling whisper-“Damien..”-heavy with want, hushed like a prayer she couldn’t contain.

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