Chapter 2 Ellis
Ellis
The air is sucked out of my lungs when Damon throws me back against the bed. I lift myself on my elbows as he pulls his pants down again and kicks them off. My mouth waters when I see his hard, glistening cock once more. I’m done for, it seems. Ruined. I get one taste of this guy and I’m obsessed.
“Clothes off, Ellis,” he murmurs.
God, what’s with that voice that’s so soft and gentle that it’s hardly intimidating? What’s alarming is that I obey. My chest vibrates and my lip wobbles, but I do as he says, scrambling to throw my clothes off.
I spread my legs as he grabs his wallet from his pants. He fumbles with it a bit—cute—before pulling out a packet of lube and a condom. A chill runs down my spine when his gaze collides with mine.
Show me what you’ve got, ex-hockey player, I want to taunt.
Then he’s hovering over me, our bodies colliding, as he wraps long fingers around my cock and strokes it. The sound that I let out isn’t one I’ve heard before.
Damon’s slow. He’s slower than I’m used to, which is perplexing to me considering this is supposed to be a one-night stand.
It’s supposed to be a meeting between two strangers who will never see each other again.
I know it’s selfish, but to me, that means getting ourselves off quickly. It should be quick and dirty.
Clearly, Damon didn’t get the memo.
Has he never done this before? Doesn’t he know he shouldn’t take his time, that he shouldn’t think about my comfort this much?
The way he touches me like I’m fragile makes me want to scream, and I want to insist that he hurry it up—but I can’t even do that, because apparently, my body likes it.
It likes the lazy way he touches me, the way he flicks lightly at my nipple as he works me open with way more lube than necessary.
“Damon,” I whine. “You can go faster. I’ve done this before. You can put one more finger in.”
“No,” he says, and I almost cry. “That’s not how I do things.”
This isn’t how I do things.
He’s got two fingers in me, stretching me lazily. I swear he’s missing my prostate on purpose, because he’s hitting everything but it. And why does he have to watch me the entire time? He keeps his eyes on me, his mouth in a half-smile.
When he finally brushes over that spot in me, my mouth drops open and my back arcs.
And he smirks.
He’s definitely playing with me.
I drag my nails down his arms. “Please. Please, please. Come on.”
Damon lets out a huff, smiling, and I relax when I finally see him pull the condom on.
At the back of my mind, I realize I’ve never begged anyone like this.
Never. I’m always the one in control. The thought should make me panic.
This night is becoming more alarming for a lot of reasons, and even if it’s not unpleasant—it’s actually the exact opposite—it still makes me realize that, shit, I should have agreed to give him my number.
I’m pretty sure I’m about to get the railing of my life.
“You ready?” Damon asks, his hands dragging down my sides as he tugs me toward him.
I blink at him.
I need to get a grip.
“Like this,” I say, and with shaky limbs, I flip over and get on my knees. It’s for my own self-preservation. I think I’m actually starting to like this guy, and it’s time to fix that—time to put my defenses back in place and make this as impersonal as possible.
Damon sighs. “This is how you want to do it?”
“Yes.”
I’m not sure if he’s disappointed, but I can’t see his face to read his expression which was the whole point of this. He shifts closer to me and puts a hand on the base of my spine, trailing his palm upward before stopping between my shoulder blades.
“You’re really trying to make this as detached as possible, huh?” he asks. “Who hurt you?”
“Nobody,” I say defensively. “I just like it this way.”
Enough with the sweet nicknames and the caresses. Enough with making me regret not giving him my number and imposing my no-kiss rule. I barely know the guy past his name. Because that’s how it goes—fuck me and fuck off.
“All right,” he says. “I’ll give you what you want.”
And he does. Damon shoves me down. A surprised sound escapes me as my face is pressed against the mattress, and his huge cocks slips into me—no preamble, and no more of him treating me like I’m fragile.
We both groan loudly at the same time, and yes.
This is what I want. I’m getting split open and he isn’t even moving yet.
And when he moves, he does it with force. Damon thrusts into me, deep, and I feel the drag of his cock in me. I clutch at the sheets and let out the filthiest moan I’ve ever heard escape me, and it makes Damon let out a laugh.
“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” I whine.
“All right, baby.”
Not the damn nicknames again—but my dick seems to like it, judging from how it leaks.
With a tight grip on my hips, Damon thrusts into me.
He sets a pace that makes me drunk with pleasure, makes me feel as if I’m floating.
It halts what little coherent thoughts were still swimming in my mind.
I don’t realize I’m sobbing until I buckle, my knees giving out.
Damon lets out a surprised, harsh chuckle at that.
Next thing I know, he’s got an arm around my chest, heaving me up.
A warm mouth presses against my neck, and I curse when his thrusts slow down.
“No!” I yell. “Don’t stop.”
“Geeze,” he says. I don’t miss the humor in his tone. “You’re something else, aren’t you?”
He’s something else.
Damon listens to me, though. He holds me up, one arm around my torso and another gripping my neck. He plasters his damp body against mine, once again fucking me with a tenacity that makes my whole body weak.
“Yes, yes,” I grit out. “That’s it.”
“Yeah?” he gasps. “You like this?”
I don’t know what I respond to that. A string of words come out of my mouth, but even I can’t make sense of them.
I close my eyes tight and lean my head back against his shoulder, gasping.
Damon pegs my prostate, again and again, and fire pools low in my abdomen.
Trembling, I reach for my cock, wanting that final push—only for Damon to make a tutting sound.
He knocks my hand away and wraps his fingers around my length, stroking me deep and tight.
“Oh, god, fuck,” I ramble as I fuck into his hand. I’m not even moving. He’s the one doing all the work, snapping his hips against mine and making me thrust into his hand as it slides down my cock at the same time.
My orgasm hits me, and the pleasure is so immense I swear I almost black out. Damon follows me not long after, his movements becoming more erratic. He groans my name when he comes, his arms wrapping around me. His hand, sticky with my cum, leaves a trail in its wake as he claws down my hip.
And maybe I do black out, because when my brain starts working again, I’m on my back on the bed. Damon’s rearranging my limbs, and I think he’s making sure I’m comfortable. He wipes his hands and my dick with the blanket, and I make a mental note to clean the sheets in the morning.
I blink at him, eyes half lidded, as he throws the condom away. His face is flushed and his hair is damp with sweat, and oh my god. He’s so fucking hot. It’s dark in the room but I can see the outline of his amazing body.
Thank God I went out tonight. First day back in Florida? Perfect.
“I’m guessing you want me to go,” he says, voice low. “But can I catch my breath for a minute?”
“Yes,” I say. I move aside a bit, giving him space, and pat the bed. “Come here. Rest a bit.”
His eyes widen slightly, but he recovers quickly, and the bed dips as he gets in beside me. His shoulder hits mine, and I lean the side of my head against his. Sue me, he’s warm and he smells good. Damon doesn’t say a thing about it.
“Haven’t really done that in a long while,” he says. His chest expands with every short breath, and I eye him as he runs his fingers through his hair. “Hooking up with someone I just met, I mean.”
“Any regrets? I know it’s not everyone’s thing.”
He turns to me, smiling. “No regrets.”
I smile back at him.
We lie there in silence for a while, our breathing the only sound in the room.
“I’m going to kill it on my first day of work,” I say. “I told myself that if I found a hot guy to fuck me tonight, then that’s only the start of amazing things to come.”
He laughs. “You’re welcome, I guess?”
“Thank you.”
Damon turns to his side, facing me, and I have no choice but to meet his gaze. He smiles and runs his fingers down my arm. “I’ll leave in a bit, okay? Do you need anything?”
“I’m good.” I chew on my lip, contemplating my next words. His eyes drift down to my mouth. “You don’t have to go, though.”
“I got the impression that you prefer your hookups to not hang around.”
He’s right. Immensely so. Rallying for a good reason, I say, “Yeah, but we could still go for another round or two.”
Damon’s eyes twinkle. “Seriously?”
“Yes, seriously.”
“I… I’d like that,” he says, and my heart jumps. “I’ll need a minute to recover.”
“Thought hockey players had better stamina than that,” I tease.
He winks. “Ex-hockey player. I’ve got a boring job now. Well… still sports related with a lot of travel, but nothing as exciting as being a professional athlete.”
“What do you do?” Since he’s not leaving soon, what’s the harm in getting to know him? It’s okay. Even if I won’t see him again, having a decent conversation after good sex is just polite. I think.
“I’m a sports agent.”
My face splits into a grin. “Wait? No way! That’s what I’m going to be doing, too.”
Damon’s eyes widen. “You’re into sports?”
“No! I hate sports with a passion. Don’t get it at all. Don’t even get me started on hockey, with all the grunting and fighting.” I smirk at him. “It helps that the men are hot, though.”
He laughs, throwing his head back. “Why are you going to be a sports agent, then?”