Chapter 9 Morgan
MORGAN
Ican’t believe this is happening. I can’t believe I’m in my savior’s apartment, with him between my shaking legs, his chin and mouth wet from my pussy.
He just gave me the strongest orgasm of my life, setting nerve endings I didn’t know existed in my body on fire, and now he’s promising to do even more.
He kisses his way up my body, starting at my inner thighs, then moving over my trembling belly, lifting my top up and over my head as he goes.
I’m hyper aware of every sound and touch, every rasp of his breath.
By the time his lips are on mine, I’m back in my head again.
This is the most impulsive thing I’ve ever done.
I hardly know him. I could be in danger.
But he’s not Marco, he won’t humiliate me. Right? And it’s been years, what if I—
Damien’s palm wraps around my throat with a gentle pressure that has me gasping, anchoring me back to the present. I bug out my eyes at him. “W—what are you doing?”
“I gave you back your breath, princess.” His smirk looks cruel, but his piercing eyes are as grounding as ever. “I can take it away if you’re not good for me.” He softens the words by caressing the side of my neck with his thumb.
My throat clicks when I swallow. “I—I just...” I begin, not knowing how to tell him what I’m scared of. My heartbeat is so loud in my ears, I could swear I hear the rush of blood through my veins.
Damien’s voice steadies me. “Talk to me, baby.”
I want this, right? I want him? No, I want him to stop. No, no, I want him, I do.
After taking a deep breath, I start with the truth. “I haven’t... It’s been a very long time.”
Damien’s eyes soften, and he leans closer, until they’re all I can see.
“I’ll make this so good for you, princess. But if you ever want me to stop, you just have to say the word, and I will. I promise.”
I feel my cheeks ignite and my lower lip tremble. I have to be honest. “I might... say no and stop but not really mean it.”
Something changes in Damien’s eyes. I can’t explain what it is, but it makes my clit pulse with renewed arousal.
His nostrils flare, and he presses his lips tightly together.
At the same time, his fingers, still resting against my neck, twitch, reminding me they’re there, miraculously holding me down without sending me into a full-blown panic attack.
“That’s more than fine, princess,” he all but growls. “Say no all you want. Tell me to stop. Tell me you hate me.” His breathing grows ragged like it did when his cock was in my mouth. “I’ll only fuck you harder. Unless you say red. Then it ends, no judgment, no pressure. Got it?”
When I don’t immediately respond, my mind spinning with the possibilities, he presses down harder on my throat. Not hurting. Not choking. Just there.
The pressure sends a rush of heat through me and panic right after. My pulse stutters, memory trying to drag me backward.
I blink hard, anchoring on his eyes. They’re steady, not cold. Not his. All I can do is nod.
“I need you to say it out loud, love,” Damien says calmly. “Just this once, say yes.”
“Yes,” I croak, my sight blurring. “If I want you to stop, I’ll say red.”
“That’s my perfect girl,” he whispers, grinding his pelvis against mine. I arch against him, trying to lift my hips, but the hand on my throat and his hips over mine keep me pinned down.
Fear slithers in through the cracks in my arousal, and I whimper, “No,” without even meaning to.
Damien chuckles, then licks the tears on my cheeks that I hadn’t realized escaped my eyes. “No won’t save you,” he says darkly. “Your pussy was made to be filled by my cum. And I take my duties very seriously.”
He pulls back to take off his clothes, revealing a sculpted, tattooed chest, and that delicious V pointing at his pierced cock, still as hard as it was when I had it at the back of my throat.
My mouth fills with saliva, remembering how it felt there and the dirty words he said to me.
I was brave enough to do that, take him like that.
I can be brave enough to do this. And if I start saying no…
Well, it looks like he enjoys it. I’ll unpack just what that says about him later.
He straddles my hips again, and I admire the contrast of his pale skin against my honey-bronze tones. Taking my nipples into both hands, he twists and pulls on the peaks until I’m squirming underneath his weight.
“Are you ready, Morgan?” Damien asks in a growl that makes me light-headed. I feel like captured prey. I shouldn’t do this, shouldn’t make myself so vulnerable, put myself at a man’s mercy again.
“I don’t think we should—” I begin, but he interrupts me by hiking one of my legs up and over his shoulder, opening me for him.
“I don’t care what you think, princess,” he murmurs, lining his fat cock with my entrance after dragging it over my wet clit and inner lips. “Your pussy is weeping for it. It’s telling me all I need to know.”
The words should terrify me. He’s saying he doesn’t care about what I want. Instead, I feel myself growing impossibly wetter, dripping over his cockhead, which is now notched at my opening, and I swear I can feel it throbbing against it.
“You’re going to take all of it, and still you’re going to beg me for more.” With that, he starts pushing in, stretching my neglected pussy. I can feel myself parting for him at first, then the burn once I clench up with fear.
“Shh,” he says, making me realize I was panting. His palm presses down on my stomach, grounding me. “Be a good girl and relax your muscles for me.”
I blink up at him as my body instantly obeys, like a soldier listening to their commanding officer.
“Yeah, that’s it.” Damien’s breathing grows harsher as he fucks me with shallow thrusts, getting halfway in before pulling out again and repeating the process in a steady rhythm.
The piercing feels cold against my overheated skin.
“You feel so fucking good, princess. Fuck, this is all I’ve been thinking about while getting myself off these days, having you under me.
I even jerked off in the gym’s showers thinking about your tight, wet pussy. ”
I moan at the revelation—the realization that this gorgeous man wants me to distraction makes my head swim and my lower stomach tighten in response.
“You like that, don’t you, baby? Like knowing you made me come just by fucking existing.”
“Damien,” I whimper, shaking my head. He’s too much, too fast. I thought he was a gentleman. I didn’t imagine he could ruin me.
“It’s too late for you now, Morgan,” he says like he’s reading my mind. “You’re mine. You’re never leaving me.”
His words send a thrill through me, a thrill that makes me want to run from him, only to have him catch me and take me back. I can feel myself flutter over his dick at the thought, and that seems to be where his patience for taking it slow ends.
With a grunt, he bottoms out, making me throw my head back at the stretch. The discomfort of having him deeper than anyone has ever been makes a dark pleasure unfurl in my lower belly.
“That’s it,” he breathes, leaning over me and bringing our lips together. “Taking all of me. All of your man’s cock.”
My man. Is this… Greek god really mine? What if I fuck it up? What if I make him hate me? What if I make him hit me, belittle me, devalue me until I’m nothing and no one?
Instead of letting him kiss me, I brace my hands against his chest, trying to push him away. “No… No, no, no. Let me go. Let me go!”
Damien tilts his head and gives me a lopsided grin. “You want to run away from me, princess?”
Stunned, I stop pushing him away. Is he going to let me go?
“You want to make me fight you for it?” he taunts, then withdraws completely. “Go on. Make me chase you, baby.”
I hesitate for only a fraction of a second, then launch myself off the couch, nearly tripping over our bunched-up clothes. Only three steps into my mad dash, Damien tackles me from behind, turning so I land safely in his arms before rolling us until he’s back on top.
“Nice try,” he says with a grin. His dick is sandwiched between our bodies, hard and wet from our juices, making me feel empty without it. “But I told you you’re never leaving me. I meant it.”
Strong arms flip me over until my ass is in the air and my cheek is pressed against the utilitarian gray carpet.
“S—stop, I don’t want this,” I protest weakly even as my hips push back against Damien’s pelvis.
A measured yet stinging slap lands on my ass cheek, the sound of flesh against flesh trying to push me back into the abyss of my past. But the man behind me doesn’t let that happen. His palm caresses the hot flesh, soothing the little hurt.
“Look up, princess,” he says calmly, like he didn’t just take me down and spank me on top of that.
Confused, I lift my head to see our bodies reflected in the glass panels of his TV stand.
When my eyes meet his in our reflection, he continues: “If by some fucking chance you forget who’s owning your pussy, you look at me. Understood?”
I nod, unable to take my eyes away from the sight of him looming above me, all his tattoos on display, a feral expression on his face.
“My good girl,” he murmurs, lining himself up again. He’s in me with one smooth thrust. “All of you, mine.”
“Damien!” I moan his name, then bite my lower lip so hard I taste blood.
“That’s right, Morgan. No one else is ever getting near this sweet pussy again. I’m about to mark it as mine.”
He fucks me like he wants to split me in half, his balls slapping against my pussy with every forward motion, his fingers holding on to my hips so hard, I know I’ll have bruises for days. Ten circles for the ten fingers currently pulling me back onto his cock like I’m just a receptacle for his cum.
The thought—along with his last words to me—sends a jolt through me that tears through the haze of pleasure.
“Damien, wait.” He ignores me, one hand moving between my legs to strum at my clit. “Ah, fuck!” I hiss. “I mean it. I’m not on birth control.”
His hips stutter in their movements, his eyes, a bit wide, meeting mine in the glass.
We look at each other for a moment, both breathing hard, Damien’s chest rising and falling in heaves.
Then his chin lifts before he leans over my back, his lips positioned at my ear.
He whispers one word that freezes my blood.
“Good.”