Chapter 28 #2
Arianette shifts, just a little. Her head tips back against DK’s bare shoulder.
Her throat arches, and one nipple brushes the inside of my wrist where my hand’s braced on the mattress for balance.
The contact jolts through me. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep quiet and stroke faster, thumb smearing over the head on every upstroke.
She’s so fucking pretty like this–lips shiny from where I touched them, tits bare and rising with every breath.
Her hips are canted just enough that I can see the shadow between her thighs under the sheet.
I want to crawl over her, pin her down, wake her with my teeth on those nipples until she’s whimpering and grinding against my body.
Unzipping my pants, I take out my length, letting it bob between my legs.
I lean down, careful not to jostle the mattress too hard, and take her jaw between my fingers.
Gentle at first, thumb pressing into the soft hollow under her chin, then firmer–enough to part her lips.
They open easily, pliant even in sleep. I shift my hips forward, fist still wrapped around the base of my cock, and guide the head past her lips, and Christ. She’s so goddamn warm.
The flat of her tongue brushes me instinctively as I slide in, inch by careful inch, until I’m seated halfway and her mouth is stretched around me.
A soft, startled gasp flutters around my length. Her lashes flutter. Eyes blink open–hazy, unfocused at first, then clearing as she registers me above her, Damon still curled at her back, his arm locked around her waist like he’ll never let go.
She makes a small, sleepy sound. Not protest. Just surprise.
Damon stirs behind her. I feel the shift in the mattress, hear the low rumble in his chest before he speaks. “Shh, Doll Baby,” he murmurs against her ear, voice thick with sleep and something darker. “Be a good girl. Let Hunt take what he needs. I’ll make sure you’re safe.”
Her eyes flick to his face for half a second, then back to me. She nods the tiniest bit, the motion making her lips drag along my shaft. I groan low in my throat.
Damon moves then. I hear the rustle of sheets, feel the subtle rock of her body as he adjusts behind her.
His hand slides down her hip, hooks under her thigh, lifts it just enough.
A moment later, her whole frame jolts forward onto my cock–deeper–because he’s pushing inside her from behind.
Slow at first, then steady. I can tell the exact second he bottoms out; her throat flutters around me, a choked little whimper vibrating straight down my spine.
He starts fucking her in shallow thrusts, matching the slow roll of my hips.
Every time he drives in, her mouth slides further down my length.
Every time he pulls back, she follows, sucking harder like she’s trying to keep me.
It’s filthy–a perfect rhythm. Her tongue flattens along the underside, dragging up that sensitive ridge on every pass, sloppy and eager now that she’s awake enough to want it.
Her breathing comes in hot, ragged bursts against my skin whenever Damon punches deep. Eyes glazed, pupils blown wide, lashes wet at the corners. She looks wrecked already, and we’ve barely started.
I thread my fingers into her hair, not pulling, just holding–anchoring her while I rock into her mouth. Damon’s hand appears over her hip, fingers digging into the soft flesh of her thigh to keep her spread for him. His other arm stays banded around her ribs, possessive even now.
She starts to tremble between us. Small at first, then building. Her moans are muffled around my cock. Damon’s thrusts get harder, more intense, the wet slap of skin on skin filling the quiet room.
I feel her start to come first.
Her whole body locks up, thighs shaking, back arching into Damon’s chest. His hand moves, palming her tit, pulling and plucking at the bar.
She moans, the sound–fuck–tips me over. I shove deeper, once, twice, and then I’m spilling down her throat in thick, hot pulses.
She swallows reflexively, throat working, greedy even through her own orgasm.
Damon follows right after. His hips snap forward one last time, burying himself to the hilt.
A low, guttural curse rips out of him as he comes inside her, grinding in circles like he’s trying to push every drop deeper.
His fingers clamp around her breast, squeezing. She whimpers again, softer this time.
We stay locked like that for a long beat–her between us, filled from both ends, trembling through the aftershocks.
Then Damon exhales hard, presses a lazy kiss to the back of her neck, and eases out.
She makes a small, disappointed sound when he slips free.
I pull out of her mouth last, careful, thumb wiping the wet corner of her lip.
It may be the most gentle I’ve been with her.
She collapses back against his chest, boneless, eyes half-lidded. Damon tucks her shirt back down over her breasts like an afterthought, and pulls the sheet up around her hips. She curls into him immediately, already drifting again.
I stand there a moment longer, chest heaving, cock softening in my hand. The room smells like sex and sweat, the faint metallic edge of whatever those books left in my head slowly fading. Everything feels quieter now. Less jagged.
I drag a hand over my face. Exhaustion hits me all at once–bone-deep.
The weight in my skull has dulled to something bearable.
I cross to my side of the room, kick off my boots and clean off my dick with my boxers, before tossing them in the hamper.
Ares follows, circling once before dropping at the foot of my bed as if nothing happened.
I slide under the covers, my back to them, listening to Arianette’s soft breathing even out into sleep again. Damon follows.
Morning’s close. The house is still.
And for the first time in hours, I feel like I can finally fucking rest.