22. Dagon
Chapter twenty-two
Dagon
Ilove you.
How many times had I lain awake in bed, imagining hearing those words? How often had I yearned to hold Diablos in my arms and kiss his lips?
He was still in my lap. His forehead resting against mine. His breath ghosting across my mouth in slow, unsteady pulls. My hands were on his hips and I couldn't make them move. They wouldn't move. I felt like if I let go, he'd disappear, like all of this had been a fever I was finally breaking.
He said he loves me.
The thought arrived in pieces. He said it in past tense first – I've loved you for years – and then in present, I love you, and then in something even more dangerous than both, because the way he said it's you, from the beginning.
It was you wasn't just a confession. It was a naming.
He'd been carrying me the way I'd been carrying him in my heart, all these years.
We'd been bleeding into the same empty room and neither of us had known the other was there.
Eight years. Wasted.
No. Not wasted. Survived.
My hand moved to the back of his neck. My fingers slid into the soft curls there, and I felt him exhale slowly against my lips. We sat like that for a long moment, breathing each other in, neither of us willing to be the first to move.
I guess he saw the heat in my eyes because he whispered, "We can't do this in a car." There was a laugh hiding somewhere under his voice.
"No," I agreed.
Yet neither of us moved.
"Dagon."
"I know."
Eventually, somehow, he climbed back into his seat. I felt the absence of him like a physical thing. My hands ached for the weight of his body. My chest was hollow in a way I hadn't felt since I was twenty-one years old standing in a hospital corridor, telling myself I had to leave.
Only this time, I wasn't leaving.
I was terrified of telling him how I felt and scared of telling him about King. I never wanted to create a wedge between them. King was his father. He was mine, too.
I was never pissed at him for what he said.
I understood. What I explained to Di was also true.
King's words shook me out of the haze of wanting to be next to Di as a mate. However, ultimately, it was my choice to distance myself. I couldn’t place that blame on King.
Even if his words cut through me and left me bleeding endlessly for the past eight years.
Even if at times the anger I felt got directed at him.
Even if I suffered, I still tried to understand him… because he was my father.
After calming down, we decided on a hotel together and got back on the road. We traveled in silence, trying to process everything we had revealed and confessed.
My body vibrated with need, and I was barely reining in my powers.
Everything in me called to Diablos. I was sure I wouldn’t be able to physically and mentally take it if he left me.
Still, I wouldn't back away. I couldn't. I wouldn't turn away from Diablos and leave him again.
It was painful in the past, but now it would be so much worse, even if there was a chance it would all lead to me breaking apart.
I would choose him.
I always chose him. When I distanced myself, I believed it was the best thing I could do for him.
But that was the fucking problem, wasn’t it?
I made the decision alone. I never spoke with him or asked him how he felt.
I never told him how I felt. Now, I needed to choose him, not in the way I thought was best for him but in the way we thought was best.
We quickly checked in and went to our room when we reached the hotel. Di told me about the room he had chosen beforehand, and when we entered, I smiled because his choice was so him.
The room’s name was Sun-Room, and even though it was night already, I could imagine the sun shining over the enormous king-size bed through the windows in the morning.
The room was inviting, with warm colors and a breathtaking view.
On the left was a large marble bathroom with a separate shower and bathtub.
The thought of using it together made my pulse race.
“This is better than the photos.”
“Yes, it is beautiful.”
Diablos went to the window and gazed at the night sky, so I went behind him and wrapped him in my arms. He twisted in my arms, and my attention immediately went to his lips. I didn’t restrain myself. I had no reason to. Gently, I kissed his lips and reveled in the feeling of rightfulness.
My heart melted.
We still had a lot to talk about. But in this instant, my body was laser-focused on his. Pouring all my emotions into the kiss was all I could do. Yet, it wasn’t enough. Grabbing his hand, I led him to the bed. Looming over him, I trailed kisses from his throat to his lips.
“Dagon,” he moaned.
I silenced him with another kiss. I couldn’t get enough. The more I touched him, the stronger the need in me grew.
When he reached for my T-shirt, I stopped him.
“Di.” How do I say this so he'd understands? “There's nothing in this world that I want more than feeling you deep inside me or reveling in the feeling of being inside you. But I want to do it when you know… something about me.”
I hoped he could understand. I wanted to have him in every way, but not before he knew the whole truth. I wouldn’t take advantage of him like this. Luckily, he didn’t ask me anything. The compassion in his eyes was something I was grateful for.
I almost choked, realizing he always knew when to push me and when to offer space. He knew me. More than that, he trusted me. I would be damned if I let him down ever again.
“Okay,” he croaked.
That was all that we said to each other. No more words. Only he, me, and our bodies expressing what our lips couldn’t. We kissed for what felt like an eternity. I nibbled and sucked at his lips, gently grazing with my teeth, eliciting moan after moan from him.
I was quickly getting addicted to the sounds he made. He was driving me wild with a desire for more. I needed to leave marks on his body. I wanted to touch his body with my bare hands, trace every curve, learn every part of him. I slid my hands under his shirt and groaned.
“Can I take it off?” I asked.
“Yes. Yes.”
Eager and far less patient than I would've liked, I yanked his shirt off.
I couldn't take my eyes off his chest, his body. Undoing his belt, button, and zipper, I pulled off his jeans. Diablos tried to hide his stomach, but I wasn’t having any of it.
Before he could stop me, I lowered my head and started kissing his stomach.
He didn't have a six-pack, and fuck, he was better for it.
He was real. He was Di. He was gorgeous.
Stopping at his nipple, I swirled my tongue around and took my time. I sucked until the moans leaving him turned into pure sin.
I could feel him vibrate with need. The same could be said for me.
“Dagon,” I loved my name on his lips, “I need more.”
“Tell me. Tell me, what do you need?”
“I need to touch you.” When I didn’t stop kissing him, he pushed me and commanded, “Now.”
I loved how consumed by lust he was. He removed my shirt, and his hands started tracing my back. I groaned at the feeling, but suddenly, he froze. I was about to ask him what was wrong when the realization kicked in.
My eyes widened. Fuck. How did I forget about this?
I barely felt the hesitant tracing of Diablos’s fingertips over my back, over the two long scars marking my body. His movements were gentle, as if he feared it would hurt me.
“It doesn’t hurt,” I said, hoping to reassure him.
“Can… can I see them?”
I nodded and moved away from him. I sat with my back facing him as my body tightened uncomfortably.
I heard the sharp inhale, and maybe showing him was a bad idea.
I tried to turn back, but then I felt his lips on my scars.
I was locked in shock. He brushed kisses from the top to the bottom of my scars and back.
He pecked me tenderly when he reached my neck, and his arms encircled me from behind.
Turning to face Di, I saw his eyes glisten with tears. Something caught in my throat. "I've seen you shirtless, these scars weren't there before."
I didn’t want him to think the worst, but I couldn’t tell him the truth. Not yet. The truth was that I've been using more and more of my demon strength and the scars were surfacing.
"I- I can't explain right now," I said, begging him with my eyes not to ask questions. He nodded and I locked our lips and laid him on his back.
Our kisses became frantic, and our breathing labored. I could feel both of us were already on the edge.
“I need you, every part of you,” I murmured against his lips.
“Then take me. I’m yours. Always have been.”
I tore out of my jeans and underwear frantically while Diablos wiggled out of his last piece of clothing, the last barrier between us finally gone.
His hard cock sprung from his boxers and hit his stomach.
It was long and slim. There was precum leaking from the tip, and I lowered my head, tasting it with the tip of my tongue.
I hummed around the head, and Di's hips bucked off the bed.
The sound that ripped from his throat was raw enough to make my own cock pulse against the sheet.
He groaned, and the sound was a balm to my soul.
“You’re gorgeous. And you’re all mine.”
I took his cock in my mouth again. The taste of him overwhelmed me. The weight of him on my tongue. The salt of him at the back of my throat. The way his thighs trembled under my hands when I took him deeper. Mine. The word kept beating in my chest like a second pulse.
Mine.
“Dagon,” he moaned, again and again, fisting my hair in a painful grip. Fuck, he was everything. It was even better than my imagination.
“Come. Here.” His voice made my cock leak.
I took his mouth with mine and aligned our bodies. The second I felt his dick against mine, I growled. Wrapping one hand around his neck, the other on his ass, I ground against him.
“Di. Fuck!” I tried to slow down, but I couldn’t. I was like a man possessed. His body was the air I needed.
“Don’t stop, Dagon.”
There was a gleam in his eyes mixed with fire. His head fell back as he started thrusting against my cock, and I sucked his neck.
I wrapped my hand around our cocks, and Di sucked in a sharp gasp followed by a long, broken moan.
Fuck. The slick of him against me. The heat of him in my fist. The way his cock slid against mine – wet at the tip, twitching when I tightened my grip.
Eight years of imagining this and none of it had been enough. None of it had been him.
He bit his lip. I let go of his cock just long enough to push my thumb against his mouth and pull it free.
"Let me hear you."
"Dagon—"
"Let me hear you, sweetheart."
His next moan was so loud it shook through me. I stroked us both faster, slicker now, our cocks sliding against each other in my fist. He was leaking onto my fingers. I was leaking onto him. There was nothing between us. Not anymore. Not ever again.
The feel of him under me, the feel of us, was divine.
His hands gripped my ass as he thrust faster. I could feel my body tightening, the pressure building. My demon was clawing at the inside of my chest, screaming mine, mine, mine. I held it down. Tonight was for the man underneath – for the us of it. The rest could wait.
When Di bit my shoulder in an attempt to muffle his scream, I shouted his name and came. The release ripped through me so hard my arms shook. He followed me right away, moaning, spilling between us, spasming under me.
Watching him lose control made me come harder, my body following his. Hell, the way he looked as he came, so vulnerable, so beautiful, it's a sight I'll carry with me forever.
When both of us were spent, I pulled him toward me, not caring about the release on our stomachs, and kissed him lazily. When I opened my eyes, he was smiling at me. All I could feel in his eyes was love, and I hoped he saw it reflected in mine too.