Chapter 13 Perry #2
“I was going to ask if you think Scout would ever change his mind. Once you earn enough of his trust.”
He studies me for a second too long. “Some animals will never be domesticated or tamed. But I enjoy them all the same.”
I get the feeling he’s not talking about the dog.
After dinner, we walk to our cars, and he follows me home to make sure I get there okay. It’s a thin excuse, but I’ve heard worse. When we walk up to my apartment, the porch light hums faintly overhead. I turn toward him.
This is the moment. This is when I tell him.
“Do you want to come in?” I ask instead.
His gaze sharpens just slightly. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
He follows me inside. The quiet hits harder now that he’s here. I move toward the kitchen automatically. “Drink?” I ask.
“Water’s fine.”
I pour it slowly, buying time. Buying courage. Okay. I have to get the conversation started. “Damian—”
He steps closer. “Perry.” And then his hand is at my waist, and he’s turning me toward him and kissing me.
Not polite. Not tentative.
That kiss. God. It steals the air out of my lungs and replaces it with heat. Electric. Immediate. The kind that travels from my mouth straight down to my spine and erases rational thought on contact.
I make a small sound I don’t recognize as my own.
His hand slides up my back, and suddenly every intention I had about sitting him down and carefully explaining generational bombshells evaporates. He pulls back just enough to look at me. “You were about to say something, but I couldn’t wait for that.”
I should say it. Right now, before I get in any deeper. I really, really should.
Instead, I pull him back in for another kiss. The guilt flares hot and sharp somewhere deep inside me. But so does the want. And right now?
The want wins.
I wrap my leg around his to bring him closer to me, and he pins me against the counter, his arms bracketing my hips when they lean on the quartz. When he kisses back roughly, his stubble burns my chin. I’m trapped by him, but I haven’t felt this free in a long time.
My fingers find the edges of his buttons, and I work them free as fast as I can. He breaks the kiss, pressing his forehead to mine. “Perry, I want to make good on a promise.”
My head is fogged, so I’m lost. “Promise?”
“Told you that if I got the chance, I’d make it up to you. The fact that you got me off, but I haven’t done the same for you.”
I’d forgotten all about that. “Um, you don’t owe—”
He kisses me harder, rougher. “Yes, I do.” He drops to his knees, lifts my skirt, and hooks one of my legs over his shoulder.
“Damian—oh,” I gasp when I feel him shove my underwear out of his way. His tongue slides over me there, and I have to grip the countertop so I don’t fall.
No, that’s not true. Damian would never let me fall.
He carefully slides my other leg over his other shoulder and lifts, seating me onto the countertop with his face still between my thighs.
Vaguely, I’m grateful he chose this spot next to the sink, where I don’t have a cabinet to knock my head into.
But even that thought fades when his tongue swipes over my clit and his fingers slowly stroke around my entrance.
I lace my fingers into his silver hair, pulling to aim him where I need him. That stubble grinds against me just right, and when his fingers gradually make their way inside of me, my body lights up. I can’t control my moans, not even when I say his name.
It makes him growl on my clit, and that growl sends me over the edge.
He keeps at me, licking and sucking and biting, until I beg for mercy.
Eventually, he stands up between my legs, looking shiny and satisfied.
He kisses me again, and I taste myself on his mouth.
He groans, “Fuck, Perry, you taste so damn good.”
Usually, I’d say something about feeling better than I taste or some other seduction line, but right now, I can hardly make words. I slide off the countertop, grab his belt, and pull him to my bedroom.
Once there, he doesn’t look around. He only looks at me. “Take off your clothes.”
He strips fast, and so do I. Then I shove him onto my bed and climb on him. I have never wanted someone more. Just as I’m about to sink onto him, he pauses. “Protection?”
“Got a copper IUD after birth, and I don’t have anything. You?”
“I’m clean.”
“Then we’re good?”
He bobs his head, so I line us up, feeling that wet kiss of his body meeting mine. His eyes roll back as he growls his approval. “Fuck, you feel good.”
“Mm, so do you,” I purr as I sink down inch by inch. When he fills me up, I take my time, but his fingers dig into my hips to control my ride. It’s as if he can’t just let me—he has to touch me, has to take control.
Suddenly, he rolls us over so he’s on top.
He hooks his arms beneath my shoulders so his hands cup me there, then drives me into the mattress like a man on a mission.
I’m pinned by him. Every stroke hits my G-spot, and I’m gone.
He pounds deep and pauses, then whispers in my ear, “You’re gonna come for me. ”
“Yes,” I whine.
“I feel it. Feel you throbbing on me. How helpless you are right now, your body begging for me to let you come.” He drives into me again, and I’m on the brink. But then he buries himself deep and stops again. “Tell me you want—”
“Please! Fuck, Damian, now!”
But he only grins. It’s devious, this rogue grin of his. “That’s what I like to hear. That edge in your voice, when you’re dying for it.” He slowly slides out and in and almost out again. “What’ll you let me do if I let you come?” He starts up again, slow this time. Waiting me out.
“Anything,” I pant, voice breaking. He’s keeping me on that edge, and I want to kill him and kiss him at the same time.
He leans down, his stubble brushing my cheek. “Will you let me have your ass?”
“Yes! Just make me come!”
He takes my hands and weaves his fingers with mine, then hammers me until pleasure bursts and floods and takes over completely. I’m soaring in my skin, pulsing in my bones. One becomes two. Two grow into three. He kisses me and keeps going until I’m utterly spent, and I’ve lost count of my orgasms.
Then he flips me over. I’m too weak to get on my knees, so he spreads my legs apart. And then I remember what he asked for. Not my favorite thing on the menu.
I take a breath to say something, but then he thrusts into my pussy instead. He rolls us onto our sides and this time, there’s no rush. Not even when I feel him swell inside of me. He murmurs my name and kisses my shoulder as he wraps an arm around me.
Somehow, with him behind me, this is more intimate.
He half rolls me just enough that he can kiss my mouth while staying inside from behind, and the moment our lips meet, he groans as his hips jerk.
He comes half in and half out of me, and while he does, he rolls me onto my back again to keep kissing me.
He makes a mess of my sheets, and I don’t even care.
When he’s finished, he stays on top of me, staring into my eyes as he strokes my cheek. “You’re amazing.”
“So are you.” I bite his thumb and grin with it in my teeth.
It makes him laugh and kiss me again. “I don’t ever want to leave this bed.”
I’m pretty sure he means metaphorically, but at the moment, I don’t care if he’s being literal. “Then stay the night.”
Holy shit. Have I ever said that to anyone?
He half nods, half smiles, then kisses me again. I feel him harden against my hip, and I know I’m not getting any sleep tonight.