40. Misty
Sunlight pressesinto my closed eyes, forcing me out of sleep. Groggily, I pull myself awake, cracking one eye open. Damon’s already watching me, his eyes soft as they dance over my face. His fingers graze over the curve of my waist, sending shivers through me. I’d fallen asleep wrapped in his arms, and from the state of us now, it appears he never let me go.
I wipe my mouth, suddenly mortified.
“You’re cute when you drool,” he says softly into my hair.
I groan, burying my face into his chest. “You could’ve just kept that to yourself.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” His words vibrate against my cheek, and his steady heart beats in my ear. I could stay just like this, wrapped in his arms forever, if he’d let me.
Pushing those thoughts down, I ask, “What time is it?”
“Ten.”
“Oh shit.” I shoot up, already scrambling to get dressed when he pulls me back into him.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he grumbles into the back of my neck, his fingers lifting my shirt over my rib cage.
“It’s Monday! I’m late.”
He guides me onto my back and climbs over me, placing kisses along my collarbone. “Did you forget I’m your boss? I already let them know we’ll be out for the next few days.”
“You can’t just do that,” I scoff.
“I own the company. I can do whatever I want.” He travels lower, placing wet, open-mouth kisses down my chest.
I gasp when he sucks my nipple into his mouth, twirling his tongue around the already hardened peak.
“Damon. I can’t just skip work.”
“That’s it, Nymph. Say my name.” His teeth graze my nipple, and heat pools between my thighs. He moves to my other nipple, showing it the same amount of attention. I can’t stop myself from arching off the bed into his hot touch.
My thighs wrap around his hips, and the hard ridge of his cock nudges the sensitive spot through my panties.
He groans and bites my nipple when I rock my hips upward, pressing us closer. “Patience. I haven’t had my breakfast yet.”
His words send a shiver down my spine, goose bumps following after his descent between my thighs. He runs his nose over me and takes a deep breath. “Fuck, wife. I’m going to eat you every morning.”
His promise has me dripping, and I thread my fingers through his hair, encouraging him.
He hums in approval and slides my underwear down my thighs, lifting only enough to remove them completely.
His tongue runs up my slit, and there’s a low rumble from his throat. Dark eyes meet mine. “I’ve never tasted anything so sweet. I’m already addicted to you.”
Before I can respond, he’s lifted my hips higher, angling me so he can dive his tongue into me. I squirm at the sensation, both needing more and overwhelmed.
No matter how many times he touches me, I can’t get used to it. Can’t get enough.
He replaces his tongue with two fingers, stretching me, and sucks on my clit.
“Damon.” I plead for something I don’t understand.
He sucks harder, adding a third finger, driving me higher over the edge. My body is crackling with tension as every muscle tightens in preparation. Damon bites my clit gently, sending the waves of my orgasm over me, pulling me under with each ripple of pleasure.
When I collapse onto the bed, body languid, he watches me with slitted eyes, licking me again.
“Sensitive…too sensitive.” I jolt, gripping his hair to pull him up, but he doesn’t move.
He chuckles as he tortures me. “I’ll make you come again.”
“You can’t.”
“Don’t underestimate me, wife.” His tongue delves into me, then slowly ascends to my clit before doing it again.
“I’ve never come this close together before.” Even as I say it, my clit begins to throb under his touch.
A sound of pure satisfaction rumbles through him. “Good girl.”
He’s slow, soft, purposeful, never stopping his assault.
It’s only when I’m moaning that he increases his tempo, listening to my every sound.
I feel hollow, needy, like my entire body is going to combust if I don’t have him inside me. “Fuck me, Damon.”
He groans and slips his fingers back inside me, coating them in my wetness before pulling out and circling my back hole. I shift, but he holds my hips firmly in place with one hand as he applies more pressure.
“No one’s had you here?” He circles his fingers until I’m coated and wet.
“No,” I breathe, my body completely frozen.
“I’m going to fuck this hole, and you’re going to love it, but you’ll have to wait. I’m going to take my time with you, when I do.” His words shoot fire through me, and I come apart as he presses deeper, breaching the rim slightly. I tremble in his arms at the force, my head fuzzy.
Damon’s cock notches to my entrance, and I reach between us to guide him in. He captures both my hands and pins them over my head, keeping me in place.
“Patience, needy girl.” He swirls his cock, coating it, then sinks into me painfully slowly, filling me inch by inch.
The pressure is all-consuming, taking over all of my senses.
Damon groans when he’s fully seated, pausing only for a second before pulling back and burying himself into my pussy.
“Your pussy’s made for me. Squeezing me so good.” His gaze is locked with mine, soft and attentive as he strokes me from within. If I didn’t know better, I’d say there’s adoration there. A possessiveness that makes me feel owned.
He drops his forehead to mine, cock still moving slowly, and his ragged breaths tickle my lips. “You’re made for me.”
He captures my mouth in a demanding kiss, sweeping his tongue over the back of my teeth, pushing it deeper until he’s tasted every inch. His hips rock faster, the head of his cock hitting me in the perfect spot each time.
A new kind of tension builds, a deeper, more primal feeling as he works me over and over until he’s pounding into me, chasing his own release. I’m so close, my hips coming up to meet his.
He grips my jaw, holding my face. “I want to see you come on my cock. I want you to know exactly who’s owning this perfect pussy.”
He lets go of my jaw, but I don’t dare look away as he presses his thumb to my clit. I’m lost to his control, his body directing mine.
“Come for me, Misty,” he commands, and I break apart as his hot cum fills me.
“Jesus Christ,” I whisper, unable to breathe deep enough to talk.
Damon brushes the hair out of my face and kisses my forehead. “You’re mine now, Nymph. There’s no turning back.”
I almost believe him.
By the time I’m out of the shower, Damon’s standing over my stove with a frying pan in his hand. My mouth waters at the sight of him. He didn’t bother getting dressed. Instead, he left himself on display in nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs. I bite my lip as my gaze travels over his back, watching the muscles shift as he works, then catch on the perfect curve of his ass.
I make a low sound, and Damon turns to me with a knowing smirk. It’s so relaxed and playful it steals my breath away.
“I like you watching me.”
My cheeks grow hot, and his smile only widens.
Damon slides a pancake onto a plate and turns off the stove before covering them with maple syrup.He takes a seat at the dining table, placing the plate in front of him. “Come here.”
I take a tentative step toward him, and he raises his brow in challenge. I huff out a breath and close the distance between us, only to have him pull me down onto his lap.
“This is unnecessary,” I grumble, pretending that I don’t love the easy affection.
“I assure you, it’s completely necessary.” He nuzzles the side of my neck. “Now, eat.”
I cut a piece with my fork and place it on my tongue, moaning deep in my throat as the sweet syrup coats my taste buds. “Oh my God. Is this real Canadian syrup?”
“I had it brought over last night.”
I can’t even wrap my head around how much something like that would’ve cost.
He reaches for my hand not holding the fork and twirls my wedding ring between his fingers. “This looks good on you,” he says, then slips his fingers between mine.
The moment’s so intimate I can’t help but meet his eyes, needing to see if he feels the way I do. His gray gaze meets mine, a small curve to his lips.
I’ve never wished to be able to read minds more than I do right now.
His phone buzzes, breaking the moment, and he reaches across the table to grab it without letting me go.
“What do you want?” His gruff greeting doesn’t seem to bother whoever’s talking on the other end.
“How did they find out?” Damon barks into the phone.
I stiffen, and he kisses my temple. “Family meeting at Massimo’s restaurant at five.”
“Make it happen.”
He ends the call and trails his fingers up and down my spine. “I can already tell you’re worried.”
“Did someone find out about Thomas?” I’m almost afraid to ask.
“Yes, his cousin did. We’ve had a truce with that family for over a decade.”
It’s hard to swallow. “I’m sorry. This is all my fault.”
Damon grips my chin. “Listen to me clearly. It’s not your fault. Thomas was going to die whether you were involved or not.”
“If I hadn’t told you?—”
“You really think I wouldn’t have flipped the world over to find out what happened after seeing your scars? You’re an Everette. We take care of each other, and no one fucks with us.”
“So, is there going to be some kind of turf war?”
Damon lets out a breathy laugh. “We showed them long ago what happens when someone decides to go against us. And that was when we were still boys. No one would dare risk it again.”
“So what happens?”
“Meet with my brothers. Show a united front, then we’ll set up a meeting with Anthony Ricci.”
“Isn’t that dangerous?”
He tilts his head, a darkness taking over his eyes. “Yes, for him.”