Chapter 17
CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN
Sawyer
King kisses me with desperation. Like he needs me the same way he needs air in his lungs.
It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.
I thought that I’d felt pleasure before. That I’d felt passion, but it was all a lie.
This , kissing him, is the real thing.
Because everyone before him were mere boys. Damien King is a man.
He slips his hands under my ass, roughly gripping me before easily lifting me into his arms. I don’t hesitate to wrap my legs around his waist, grinding myself against him. He groans into the kiss, tightening his grip.
He walks us backward toward the still-flat tattoo chair, breaking the kiss to set me down on the edge. He reaches down, popping the button on my jeans, and reaching for the waistband. He slips his fingers beneath both the waistband of my jeans and my simple black thong. I lift my hips to help him as he pulls them down my legs, discarding them to the side, leaving me bare in front of him.
I’ve never been someone who’s shy when it comes to sex. In fact, it’s probably one of the places I feel most confident. Sex has always been a physical act for me. Nothing more, just a release. I’ve never let myself experience the emotional connection, the vulnerability that comes with it.
But with Damien, it’s different. Yes, the physical tension is thick enough that you could cut it with a knife. But then the emotional connection is just as strong.
The butterflies in my stomach. The way my heart races whenever he’s around. I don’t know how to put the feelings into words just yet. All I know is that it’s more, which makes me want him more than ever.
He drops to his knees between my legs, and I scooch back, just enough to place my feet wide on either side of the chair, spreading myself open for him. I prop myself up on my elbows to watch.
“You know, you look good on your knees,” I tease.
He runs his calloused fingers gently up the inside of my thigh until he reaches my center, brushing them ever so softly over my clit, causing my hips to jerk.
He traces them through my folds. “So wet for me,” he says, his voice full of desire.
He leans forward, so close that I can feel the warmth of his breath against me. His eyes look up and meet mine. “I’d spend a lifetime on my knees for you, Sawyer Davis.”
In the next second, he sucks my clit roughly between his lips, and I throw my head back as a moan escapes me.
He licks through me up and down, his tongue spearing inside me before bringing it back up to my clit. He explores every inch of me, never letting up. He eats me like he needs it just as much as I do.
I reach down, roughly gripping his short strands with my fingers as he nips at my clit, the mix of pain and pleasure nearly too much to bear. Pressure builds in my core, and I squirm against him, pushing my hips into him, desperate for release.
I moan as he shoves a finger into me, my wetness making it easy. He slips it in and out a few times before adding a second, curling them upward inside me.
“Fuck,” I gasp as he hits a spot I didn’t even know existed.
He picks up the pace, consistently curling his fingers inside me, hitting that same spot over and over while his tongue expertly works my clit.
It takes an embarrassingly short amount of time before he has me clenching around his fingers as I fall apart around him. I collapse onto the chair, my back arching off of it, as the strongest orgasm I’ve ever experienced washes over me.
It feels like being knocked down by a strong wave, completely unable to fight it. I don’t have a second to come up for air because he doesn’t slow his movements, demanding more.
“So fucking sweet,” he mumbles, his deep voice vibrating against me. He laps at my wetness while his fingers continue to torture me in the most delicious way.
“Give me another, Sawyer.” He leans down, sucking my clit back into his mouth, at the same time reaching his unoccupied hand up, spreading his fingers over my lower stomach, gently pressing down.
Before I can even grasp what’s happening, I’m coming a second time all over his tongue, this orgasm even more intense than the last.
“Fuck, Damien,” I cry out.
He slows his movements this time, letting me ride it out. His tongue languidly licks through my pussy, sapping up my wetness. When he finally relents and lifts his head, looking up from between my thighs, his lips are glistening with my arousal. His hair’s a mess from me pulling at it, and his face is slightly flushed, his eyes dark with desire.
He looks like a dream. A really fucking sexy dream.
I sit up, fisting the fabric of his shirt and pulling him toward me. He doesn’t hesitate, pressing his lips to mine from where he still sits between my legs. I tug at the bottom of his shirt, and he pulls away, reaching behind him to lift it over his head, throwing it off to the side.
He stands, and my fingers immediately find the button on his jeans. After I unbutton and unzip them, he pulls them along with his briefs down. With him standing and me sitting, my face is perfectly aligned with his hard cock. I reach forward, wrapping my hand around him, and he hisses, his hips instinctively jutting forward.
He reaches behind me and unclips my bralette. I let go of him for a second, slipping it off, before gripping him again. My hand looks small around his girth as I watch myself slowly jerk him up and down. His dick practically throbs in my hand, precum leaking from the tip at just my touch.
I lean down, swiping it clean with my tongue.
“Fuck, Sawyer,” he groans, reaching down and grabbing my chin between his thumb and pointer finger. “As much as I want to see those pretty lips of yours wrapped around my cock, I need to be inside of you. Now.”
“So, what are you waiting for?” I taunt him, sitting up and leaning back on my hands.
He shoves his hand behind my head, his fingers lacing through my hair, pulling my lips to his. He climbs onto the chair on top of me without breaking the kiss. His warm skin rubs against mine, and I press my chest into him, savoring the feel.
It’s been a while since I’ve been with a man. Over a year at least, so I forgot how good this feels. Skin brushing against skin. The closeness of it all. Then there’s the added element that this isn’t a random man or a friend who I’m using for more like I have in the past.
This is a man with whom I have probably the strongest connection I’ve ever felt toward anyone in my life before. What would feel good with someone else feels extraordinary with him.
He rubs himself against me, his length brushing over my clit, causing me to moan into the kiss. Then he finally lines himself up, and he slowly pushes inside. There’s a tinge of pain at first from not having been with anyone in so long, and he’s definitely bigger than any man I’ve been with before.
But that pain almost instantly turns to pleasure the second he’s fully sheathed inside.
“Shit,” he groans, staying still inside of me for a second. “You’re so fucking wet. Squeezing my cock so tight, it’s hard to move, sweetheart.”
“You wanna call me sweetheart, then you better fuck me like I’m yours.” I squeeze him tighter and watch as his eyes darken so that they’re nearly black.
He pulls out, slamming his hips back into me, and I cry out, reaching up and gripping onto his shoulders to steady myself. He doesn’t let up, finding a rhythm with his lower abdomen rubbing over my clit with every stroke. I rake my nails down his back, pulling him into me.
He gets so impossibly deep, hitting spots I’ve never even felt before. It’s so intense—much better than anything I’ve ever experienced.
He reaches down, pinching my hard nipple between his fingers, then rubbing his thumb over it to soothe the burn. He does it again before moving to the other side, giving it the same attention.
“Damien,” I cry out, a deep pressure building in my core.
“Say my name again,” he says, his voice deep and breathy.
“Damien,” I moan.
“I never appreciated how nice my name sounded until hearing it come from your lips,” he groans, gripping under my right ankle and bringing it up to his shoulder, allowing him to get even deeper than before.
I gasp, my back arching off the chair. Every nerve ending in my body feels like it’s on fire. My vision goes blurry. It’s too much to take.
“Come for me, Sawyer,” he says. “Let me feel you soak my cock.”
His words are my undoing, and I shatter around him. My vision goes black, my fingertips go numb, and everything inside me feels like it’s exploding. Like fucking fireworks. Even better than fireworks.
I barely have a second to come down before he’s lifting me from under my hips and flipping me over like a ragdoll so that I’m on my knees.
My upper body falls forward into the chair, and I land on my elbows, my face squished down and my ass up in the air.
He pushes himself back into me, the sound of my arousal audible as he does. He starts slowly, building up the pressure inside of me again. He fucks me at a steady rhythm while reaching around to rub small, quick circles on my clit.
My body feels spent, like it’s been through hell and back. Yet, with his touch, the feel of him inside of me, my body still craves more. I push back against him, my ass bouncing against him as he meets me. The sound of our skin slapping against each other, along with our heavy breathing, fills the small room.
And when it feels like I have nothing left to give, the orgasm hits me out of nowhere. It’s just as powerful as the last one.
He picks up his pace, and only a few seconds later, he follows behind, his body tightening, and his cock jerking inside as he empties himself into me.
I collapse down onto the tattoo chair, every part of my body feels like Jell-O.
He pulls out of me, and I instantly feel the loss, followed by his cum dripping down my thigh.
He stands from the chair, opening the cabinet above his desk and grabbing a small black towel out of it. I figure he’ll just throw it to me, but he doesn’t. Instead, he walks back over, reaching down and gently cleaning between my legs.
I lie there, completely still, as he does. He doesn’t say anything, and neither do I.
I’m not uncomfortable with him or what he’s doing, it’s actually really sweet. It’s because of how sweet he’s being that I feel uncomfortable in general…I’m. I’m just not used to it. From anyone.
I’ve never had this before. A man who cares enough to clean up the mess he made, let alone a man who stuck around for more than ten minutes after.
It’s different. Good different. Really good.
I turn over when he’s finished to see him throwing the towel in the small bin next to his desk and then grabbing his briefs and jeans. He slips them back on, then grabs his T-shirt and hands it to me.
“Thanks.” I sit up grabbing the shirt and slipping it over my head. King’s big enough that it fits me like a dress, which doesn’t normally happen considering my height.
He props the chair back up so that it’s no longer flat, and I lie back, leaning against it. He lifts my legs sitting down at the opposite end of the chair and placing my legs on top of his thighs.
“So, that was…” His words trail off as he gently rubs his fingers up and down my calf.
“Fucking amazing.” I laugh lightly.
“Yeah.” He chuckles. “It was.” He pauses. “But now, we should really talk.”
“I know.” I sigh. “I think it’s obvious that I like you. And that you like me.” I smirk at him. “I know there’s something here, but it’s complicated. There are so many reasons why we shouldn’t do this,” I say.
“Okay, so let’s talk through them,” he says. “Lay out all the reasons, and we’ll go from there.”
“Well, for starters, you’re my boss.” I raise a brow at him.
“Yeah, I am, and I know it’s probably unethical for me to date an employee, but you’re more than just an employee.” He shakes his head. “You’re a part of Blackheart Ink now, no matter what happens with us.”
“You say that now, and I do trust you. But I’ve trusted a lot of people in my life, and almost all of them have let me down.” I sigh. “This is the first job I actually like, and I can’t afford to get fired.”
“I’ll put it in writing,” he says immediately. “I want you to trust me, Sawyer, but I understand why it’s hard for you. So, we can draw up a contract that explicitly states that I cannot fire you for any personal reasons, including our relationship status.”
“You’d do that?” I ask him, surprised at the lengths that he’s willing to go.
“I’m starting to think there’s not much I wouldn’t do for you, Sawyer.” He reaches forward, brushing a fallen strand of hair behind my ear. “What else you got?”
I scrunch my brows together for a second, thinking through all the excuses running through my head of why this is a bad idea. The main one being… I’m scared. But I won’t say that one out loud.
“You’re twelve years older than me,” I say instead.
“Does that bother you?” He raises a brow, amused.
“No.” I roll my eyes, and he laughs under his breath.
“Do you have any other real reasons why this won’t work between us, because I think we’ve already proven it works pretty well?” He eyes up and down my bare legs.
“He makes jokes.” I gasp. “Shocking.” I nudge him gently with my foot.
“Guess you bring it out of me.” He smirks, and I laugh.
“I have one more,” I say. “A serious one.”
“Okay, what is it?” he asks.
“Your daughters.” I chew my lip anxiously. “They’re your world, as they should be, but I don’t know that it’s right for me to step into that.”
“What if you’re invited into it?” he asks.
“I’d say I don’t know if I’m ready,” I say softly.
“That’s okay.” He nods. “We’ll wait until you are to bring anyone else into this. For now, it can stay just us.”
“But what if I’m never ready?” I ask, because it’s the truth.
It’s not because I don’t love Ellie and Willow. I love them both more than I love my own family. That’s exactly why I’m not sure it’s a good idea for me to take on that type of role in their lives. All they have is their dad. So me being with him would, for starters, force them to share him, not that I think he’d ever not put them first, but it would also mean I would become someone more important to them.
A role model. A mother figure.
How am I supposed to act like a mother to those girls when I barely had one myself? Call it mommy issues or whatever else, but I don’t feel worthy of that title. Especially to Ellie and Willow, who deserve nothing but the best.
“It’s okay to be scared,” he says. “But you’ll never know if you don’t try.”
I know that he’s right. The least I can do is try.
“Okay.” I nod. “So, we do this. Explore it, see if it could work, but we don’t tell anyone. Not until we’re sure and I’m ready.”
“Okay.” He nods.
“So, we’re basically in a secret relationship,” I say, kind of amused.
“Yeah, I guess so.” He grins.
“Hmm. Well, you know what that means, don’t you?” I ask.
“What?” he asks, his brows scrunched in confusion.
“Lots of sneaking around.” I bend my leg, the T-shirt riding up my thigh.
“I think I could get on board with that.” He grabs hold of my leg, yanking me across the chair and toward him.
I squeal, laughing, as he pulls me across his lap and kisses me.
Now this , I could get used to.