Chapter 10 #2
The prolonged yes he utters goes straight to my cock, making it harden and rise. It twitches by the time Damen’s tongue rolls over my buttock, tasting the tender skin.
“You’re a masterpiece. This ass is art,” he whispers, moving his hands to the sides of my buttocks and squeezing them together. “And you must know that when it comes to art, I am a connoisseur.”
I gasp at the tiniest spark of pain, but I don’t care if it hurts when I get to feel his hips slapping against my ass. I want it. I want him. Am I deluded? Probably, but I want to believe his promises. “It’s yours,” I say breathlessly.
“Really? How badly do you want to give it all to me? This ass,” he whispers, pressing several more kisses to my bruised cheeks, then continues moving his hands over the body parts he’s naming.
“Those hips, those legs, and this back too. I want them all, and that’s not even everything I need from you. ”
Even my fingers tremble when he rises, licking his way up my spine until his face is buried in the crook of my neck, hands placed on my stomach and chest.
“Consider it a Christmas gift you get to unwrap early.” I’ve never been admired this way.
Sure, lots of guys wanted to fuck me, or said I have a nice ass, but Damen takes in all of me is as if he sees me as a whole person, not just as a means to get off.
Maybe I’m just lying to myself because I want that so much. For him to consume me whole.
He exhales and laps at my cheekbone. His tongue is soft, and warm, and its touch makes me shiver in his arms, ass to his fabric-covered dick, which is most definitely hard for me too. “In that case, you should get yours early too.”
Does this mean I get to suck him off now?
My mouth floods with saliva when I remember the weight of him on my tongue, but my head glitches when a chain of chunky golden links passes in front of my face. It’s heavy and cool against my collarbones, and I still when something clicks at my nape.
Damen guides me toward the huge wooden wardrobe with an oval mirror embedded in one of its doors.
I take in the picture we make. Obscene. Me naked, him standing behind me, one hand over my navel as he kisses my ear.
I’m hard and crave for his hand to go lower, but my gaze settles on the gift around my neck, more of a choker than a necklace.
He’s already showered me with gifts, but I love this addition. Like I’m his prized pet.
He turns it around my neck until the tiny padlock is at the front, right under my throat, where I want his hand. It’s the color of honey, its size so bold, and I just know it’s real gold, because this man would never settle for anything less.
“I’m never taking it off. I’m gonna fucking die in this thing,” I say with a grin as I look into his eyes in the mirror. So maybe I’m a little unhinged, but I want to fall into this fever dream.
When he rains kisses along the side of my neck and delves his fingers into my pubes, almost touching the base of my painfully stiff cock, it’s him who falls into my fantasy. And then I’m flying, curled against his chest while he carries me away as if I weigh less than a rabbit.
“How about a little death first, hm?” he rasps against my temple.
“Is… that some BDSM thing?” I ask, unsure just how far the rabbit hole goes with him. How far am I willing to go?
He chuckles, depositing me on the bed so gently as if I was made of the finest porcelain. He did not fear I’d break when he spanked me, but that’s a detail.
“It translates from la petite mort,” he explains, resting on the edge of the mattress, his fingers drawing patterns around my dick yet refusing to touch it.
“A French expression often used to describe sexual peak,” he explains patiently, and I don’t know if I should feel humbled or spread my legs now.
When he says two whole sentences to me in French, I hardly blink, and yes, open my thighs. “Fuck. You speak French too?” I shake my head in disbelief. “You know what? I think I can excuse the killing. Just shower me with gold and French.” I’m joking. Or am I?
He laughs, cups my face and lets out a flood of sweet-sounding words I don’t recognize with the exception of my name.
I can’t think. This man is too perfect. There must be a catch. Other than the killing, I mean, because Happy would still be alive if he hadn’t viciously attacked us.
Damen chooses this moment to tap my cock with his finger, and I utter a broken sound, trying to rub myself against his hand.
“Good things come to those who wait, baby,” he tells me and stands beyond my reach.
“I hate waiting,” I whine, but as soon as he makes a show of taking off his sweater, he has all my attention. “Okay. I can wait a little.” I sit up to watch with saliva pooling in my mouth. I’ll finally get to see all of him. My heart pounds with pure excitement.
He’s all toned muscle and harmony, like those Trojan soldiers behind him. Dark hair’s dusted on his chest and stomach, but nothing is out of proportion, as if the gods created him as a perfect specimen every man should aspire to be. The kind of body you get from discipline, not vanity.
I’m speechless when he opens his pants too, because while I’ve seen his cock, this is the very first time he’s showing me everything else, and oh, how I want to fall asleep with my head between his strong thighs.
Underwear stays on only briefly, and soon his hard shaft is pointing at me, somehow even more impressive than it seemed when I saw it for the first time.
He’s almost untouchable in his beauty, and while he knows it, he’s still looking for my approval with those gorgeous hazel eyes, so I’m ready to give it to him in spades.
It’s not enough that filth and awe fill my head. He needs to know.
I run my fingers over the thick gold links of my gift with my mouth dry.
“I’ve never wanted anyone more between my legs than I want you now. You’re so fucking perfect.” I reach for his hip but he moves out of reach. “I’m gonna scratch your back when you fuck me, just to leave a mark on you.”
“Is that a threat or a promise?” Damen asks and puts his knee on the edge of the mattress. One push to my chest and I’m prone, watching him crawl above me as if he were a majestic lion and I—his prey.
"It's a threat. I will kill you. You will have that petit mort inside me, and I will absorb it. I will drink your death off your trembling lips.” Even my cynicism is melting away like the snow outside. I might be helpless if he chooses to snap my neck, but I don’t care anymore.
I’m not afraid of him. He needs to know how serious I am about wanting a love that’s all-consuming.
My hole throbs with heat when he settles on top of me.
“Oh, but wouldn’t that be a beautiful death?” he whispers, trapping both my wrists above my head, hips sinking between my thighs, hard cock on hard cock. I’m utterly disarmed and helpless for as long as he’s touching me.
All I can do is nod, captivated by the sizzling heat between us. Who needs a fireplace when there’s Damen? I try to move my hand, just a little test, but his hold is a testament to how strong he is.
“It would be,” I say, hypnotized by his dreamy eyes under a curtain of long lashes. I want a lifetime under this man and it doesn’t need to be in a mansion. I’d let him fuck me on a dirty mattress in an abandoned building if he said the word. But oh, isn’t this huge, clean bed so much better?
I sink deeper into the mattress when he kisses my neck, and I know I would follow him anywhere as long as he keeps this up, as long as he wants me. My fingers glide over his warm skin, and I could train as a masseuse just so I can worship him with my hands for hours.
“Delicious,” he rasps, sucking on my flesh in a spot I won’t be able to cover easily, but we’re here with his family, and if he wants to parade me around in a necklace of hickeys, gold, and pearly cum, I’m happy to follow his lead.
The sweet relaxation ends when he grabs my hips and rolls over, so he’s now under me, grinning as if I’m making a silly face.
I soon smile and go in for a kiss, resting my elbows next to his head. I take my time with his tongue, even as he asserts his dominance by sliding his hand into my hair and holding it firmly.
“Not a top after all?” I ask, winking at him.
Damen snorts and slides his finger from my temple to the chin, outlining half of my jaw.
“I just feel I need to inspect the goods more thoroughly before I use them.” The slap across my buttock has me sucking in air through my teeth, but the force behind it makes my balls throb with need.
“Go on, straddle me so I can see your ass.”
It gives me a thrill that he’s so into me. This polished, handsome killer with a trust fund chose me. I have flashes from last night of him adoring my tattooed ribs as if I were a masterpiece. And if that’s how he sees me, who am I to deny him?
My brain floats in endorphins as I sit on his chest reverse cowboy-style and salivate at the sight of his fat cock.
For a moment, I even forget how much I long to be admired, and when my lover’s warm hands slide up the backs of my thighs, I push my ass back toward Damen’s face while burying my nose against his dick.
Shame’s not an option anymore. It burned off me the moment he looked at me with those fiery eyes.
“Good boy.”
He pulls my hips back until I’m straddling his face, and—oh fuck—his hot breath is all over my dick.
I curl my toes, rubbing my cheek against his tool.
It leaves a sticky streak on my skin, which only whets my appetite for that hard rod.
Yesterday, I tasted it for the first time, and in this moment, the desire for another taste is almost impossible to resist. Damen smells amazing too, as if fresh sweat and musk were made into a perfume, the kind that makes one turn their head in the street.