Chapter 27
As Anaand I continue our kiss, I maneuver my hands underneath the silky fabric of her dress to pick her up as I stand, and she wraps her legs and arms around me tightly. “Is he going to watch?” I ask her, noting Brinkley’s presence.
“He’s asleep,” she says with a smile. “We’ll just have to be quiet.”
“Quiet? You really have no idea what you’re in for, do you? I plan on all of New Orleans hearing me make you mine.”
Ana laughs. “Just, be gentle. I…I’ve only done this once before, and it’s been years and it was so quick that it hardly counts.”
“You don’t have to worry, baby. I’ve got you.” I kiss her once more. “You remember what I told you our first time together? Don’t think. Just lie back and submit to me. Can you do that for me?” She nods, and I lower her to her feet and quickly turn to pull the curtains closed over the windows above the couch. Grabbing the blanket from the end of the sofa, I lay it out flat so she doesn’t get cold. I think I’ve got all my bases covered until I remember condoms. I haven’t had a need for them, so I don’t own any. I’ll just have to remember to pull out before I cum inside her. Though, as I take in the silhouette of her body in that dress—the outline of her hips and thighs, the way it cups her breasts, the way her hard nipples threaten to rip the delicate fabric—I know that won’t be such an easy task.
“Admiring your dessert, Mr. Dupont?” she asks then.
“I’m always admiring you, my love.”
Ana takes a step toward me. Closing the distance between us, she brings her hands to the hem of my black T-shirt. I see she is just as impatient as I am. “Take this off,” she whispers, and I smile.
“That doesn’t sound like submission, Anastasia.”
“You can punish me later.”
“I like the sound of that,” I say. Sure, our arrangement is over, given way to something new, something better. But that doesn’t mean we have to give up all of our games.
She lifts my shirt. Her arms are too short to get it over my head, so I finish the job for her. Slowly, she runs her eyes over my chest, tracing every muscle, indention, and line of my tattoos. I notice her eyes linger on the one of my mother’s name sketched over my heart—Delia. She looks at me then with questions in her eyes. “My mother,” I say then.
“She’s the woman in your sketches?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“And the man was?”
I lower my gaze as Ana brings her hand to my heart. She rests it over my tattoo and I pinch my eyes closed in response. This moment isn’t lost on me. My mother’s death is what made me scared to love. Now that I’ve fallen in love, the truth about my mother is what will bring Anastasia and me closer. “My father,” I say then. “The two people on this earth who made me afraid to love, though, for two entirely different reasons. Although, I should say formerly of this world. My mother died several years ago in a car crash.”
“Oh, Damon. I’m so sorry,” Anastasia says. Moving her hand from my chest to my cheek, she guides my eyes to hers. I lean into her touch.
“After I lost my mom, I never wanted to fall for anyone because I never wanted to lose them. And given my father’s violent nature, some of which may have been imparted on me, I guess I didn’t trust myself to love either. That’s why I set my boundaries, created my rules, and have kept everyone at arm’s length for far too long. But you…you changed everything for me, even though I wasn’t ready for it to change. You shattered my sense of control and made me realize I can’t choose when or how or with whom I fall in love. And now that I have, distance is the last thing I want.”
At that, I move my palms to her ass. Giving her a gentle squeeze, I bring my lips to hers. Our kiss quickly progresses as I pull her dress off over her head. I’m thankful I got a good look at her black lingerie earlier today, because I discard it just as quickly. “God, yes,” I moan as she stands before me naked. Her skin glistens under the glow of the fire. Her curls are so thick and messy that she looks like something wild, something of another world. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”
I fight against my urges and nearly a decade of suppression for a moment longer. Slowing my movements, I take my time with her before I lay her down. I run my hand up the curve of her body, from her hip to her neck. Replacing my fingers with my lips, I leave soft kisses on her neck between each nibble. At the same time, I bring my hand to her breast and massage her most sensitive peak. She moans in response and it is the most perfect sound.
“I’m so desperate to sink into you, baby, but I want you nice and wet first.” I drop to my knees then, my face only inches from her glistening pussy.
“Do whatever you want, baby. I’m yours. I trust you.” Anastasia is breathless as she speaks, her words triggering me at my deepest core. Even knowing the truth about my father, about my fears, she trusts me? I don’t feel worthy of her trust, especially knowing the secret I still haven’t had a chance to tell her yet. But I can’t hold myself back from her any longer. She said the rest can wait and I’m inclined to agree. I need her—now.
Anastasia watches me as I kneel before her and position my face between her legs. Slowly, I run my tongue along her folds, lapping up all her delicious juices. Then I tease her clit by alternating between my tongue and my thumb. I work her, just enough to have her shaking and grinding against me, not enough for her to cum. As I pull myself away from her, she looks at me with hazy eyes. Sweat sparkles on her stomach and forehead.
“You’re such a tease,” she says, her body still recovering from my attention to detail.
“Don’t worry, baby bird. It’s just that if I make you cum now, you’ll be too sensitive for what comes next.” I take her hand and lead her to the couch. “You taste like you’re ready.”
“What about you?” she asks, lowering herself to sit before me. I bring my hands to my belt and quickly undo my pants as her eyes drift to my groin. In one swift movement, I shuck my jeans and boxers down to my ankles. As the warmth from the fireplace dances across my erection, I only grow harder.
“You tell me. Do I look ready for you, my love?”
Anastasia takes me in, the tip of my dick only inches from her face. Her eyes widen in surprise. Though, as she licks her lips, I can tell she’s more excited than worried. “It’s already dripping,” she says, noticing my pre-cum. “Let me get that for you.”
Without hesitation, Anastasia leans forward and brings her lips to my penis. Slowly, gently, she takes me inside her warm mouth. I hiss in response. She bobs her head back and forth, running her tongue along my length as she takes me deeper. She gags and gasps as she struggles to take all of me. “You’re doing such a good job, baby. Just like that.” I bring my hand to the part of the shaft she can’t manage to take and pump it as she sucks the rest. Desire burns inside of me so hot I know I’ve got only a few more seconds. “Anastasia,” I say. She looks up at me then, continuing her rhythmic movements, and it shatters every shred of restraint left in me. “Oh, fuck.”
The sight of her mouth widening around me, the way I can see my length stretching down her throat, the fresh bleed of her mascara as her body burns hot with a desire just as intense as mine pulls my cum from me before I can warn her or withdraw from her. She chokes as the thick, salty substance fills her mouth and slips down her throat. She starts to pull away, but I bring my hand to the back of her head and hold her in position, shooting my last shot down her throat. “Just a little more, baby, or I’ll have it dripping down that gorgeous face of yours.” She gags. As I finish, I pull myself from her and she catches her breath. Though, I give her only a second before I wrap my arms around her and lay her back on the sofa. Shooting that first load will help me last longer inside of her, but I’ve got to get in quickly before my dick thinks we’re done.
Straddling her, I run my hand up her thigh and slip my finger inside her pussy to give her a few warm-up strokes. She moans. Oh, my sweet baby bird. I pray I don’t hurt you. I look at her then and kiss her softly. “Are you ready, my love?” I ask her once more.
“Yes,” she says, her voice barely audible.
“Good girl,” I say and with that, I remove my fingers from her pussy, lick them clean, and slip my dick inside her. She’s so wet I glide in easily, which is exactly what I was hoping for. I want this to be as painless for her as possible. Even though she’s not a virgin, she’s not used to stretching for dick. It may take her a while to get used to it. Despite her arousal, she cries out as I press my full length inside her. I still myself as my tip taps against the opening of her cervix. Her body arches and she throws her head back. I watch her as she gets used to the feeling, the pressure. All the while, it isn’t lost on me how important this moment is for me too. I’ve never made love to anyone. Sex, sure. Though even that I can’t remember the last time. But love? Never.
Tonight, I make her mine in every sense of the word—mine to protect, mine to tease, mine to love, and mine to claim. But tonight, in this act, I also become hers. With that realization, my chest aches with every emotion I feel for her just as my dick pulses, ready to take out nearly a decade of celibacy on her perfect little cunt. As Anastasia’s breathing regulates, she lowers herself flat against the couch and returns her eyes to mine. In them, I find the glow of euphoria. “I love you, Anastasia Cross,” I say, holding her gaze as I begin, slowly, moving in and out of her. Each time I press as deep as her body will allow me, letting my body rub against her clit as I do.
“Mmm,” she whimpers. I savor every second, every shred of this sensation, every sound she makes. Her moans, her juices now coating my skin, are the sweetest. The way her body opens for me, the way her insides wrap around me. Feeling all the tension leave her, I increase the speed of my thrusts. She wraps her legs around me for support. Our sweat melts together as we become one, in body and soul, just as she wanted.
As I feel my arousal build once more, I grab her by her hips and lift her bottom so that I can sink deeper into her while still maintaining the eye contact this position allows. “You’re mine,” I tell her. “Promise me, you’re mine.”
In between gasps and moans, she says, “I’m yours, Damon. I promise. I promise you, I’m yours.” With that, she brings her hand to my neck and guides my lips to hers. As I bend forward, she cries out once more as the position increases the pressure. Finally, she kisses me, and with our kiss, I find my release—a release of years of fear and grief, months of yearning for her, months of restraint. I fill her with my cum, marking her in the most sacred way, regardless of the consequences.