Chapter 27 #2
I whimper, squirming, and Damien’s hands move from the backs of my thighs to my ass, his fingers digging into my flesh, hard and unapologetic. It isn’t punishing, though. It’s desperate.
“That’s it,” he hisses against my lips when at last I manage to convince my body to relax. “You like being stuffed full, don’t you?”
His words send molten heat to pool in my core, and I let out a short, breathless laugh, my legs tightening around his waist. “Fuck you.”
Damien nips at my bottom lip. “Are you trying to provoke me, princess? Need I remind you of your current position?” My response never comes, the words turning to a pained cry as he pulls out and drives back into my unguarded sex, giving me a sharp, warning thrust.
Maybe I was trying to provoke him. A little.
As my head swims, almost drunk on lust, I decide that provoking him a little more might be a good use for my current position.
“Is that supposed to scare me?” I ask breathlessly, kissing the corner of his mouth, as I run my hands over his broad shoulders, savoring the way my touch make the muscles bunch and tighten. “Consider your mission unsuccessful. Better luck next time.”
I bite my lip to stop myself from crying out. “Was that adequate?” Damien murmurs, feigning concern as his fingers dig into my ass. “Or should I try again?”
This time, I can’t hold back my moan as he bottoms out, the plush head of his cock pressing snugly against the very deepest part of me. “Yes,” I plead, forgetting the games. “Again, again.”
He doesn’t give it to me, though. Instead, smirking, Damien leans back, reaching out to shut off the water, which I now realize has gotten cooler since I got in here with him.
Dignity forgotten, I whine in protest as he pulls out, lowering me back onto the weight of my own shaky legs.
My heart lurches when he lowers his head to kiss the damp skin of my cheek. “Don’t pout, you little brat. You’ll get what you want.”
I’d better.
Regardless of this reassurance, I find myself pouting anyway, as he pulls back the shower curtain and leans out into the steamy bathroom, reaching for the stack of clean towels resting on a shelf. His fathomless gaze meets mine as he returns to hand me one.
“Bold of you to assume you know what I want,” I tell him petulantly as I wrap the terrycloth material around my middle, hiding my body from view.
Unconcerned, Damien scoffs, lifting the towel to his hair. I lean back against the shower wall, trying not to let my eyes linger on the curve of his biceps, or drop to his cock, hanging heavily in the space between us, still streaked with milky lines of my arousal.
When he lowers his hands, his hair is tousled but still darker than usual. He holds my gaze as he steps over the lip of the shower and lifts his chin toward the door. “Get in my bed, princess.”
The words seem to have a direct line to my pussy, making my clit throb and my inner walls contract, mourning the fullness which had stretched them only moments ago.
Letting out a lungful of air, I do as he says, feeling the weight of his eyes on my back as I open the door, stepping out into the dimly lit cottage.
Even with the fire blazing in the hearth, the air is cooler out here, making me shiver as I draw toward Damien’s neatly made bed. Pretending I don’t notice him watching, I keep my movements unhurried and casual, drying myself with a lot of unnecessary bending over.
If he’s determined to torture me, I’m happy to torture him right back.
Finally, when my pussy is so wet I’m nearly dripping down my thighs, and I think I might burst from how badly I need him, Damien seems to reach his breaking point, too.
Large, strong male hands appear on my waist, dragging me back into his warm chest with a grumbled, “Fucking tease.”
There’s nothing even a little bit funny about the situation, but I find myself giggling, my cheeks aching from the size of my smile as he marches us forward.
Pushing me playfully, I sprawl on the mattress, rolling over in time to see he is smiling, too, his dimples so big that they make my heart lurch, before he comes down on top of me.
My hands find his face, pulling his lips down to meet mine.
He comes without resistance, and a low groan rumbles in his chest as I wiggle beneath him, spreading my legs to give him enough space to settle between them.
Our skin, still a little damp from the shower, sticks together when I reach down to wrap my fingers around his cock.
The angle is awkward and complicated by Damien’s apparent reluctance to allow any space between our bodies.
I manage to stroke him, though, and his shaft twitches under my hand, a bead of precum smearing on my inner wrist.
I like the feeling of it so much that I think of tracing the shape and having it tattooed there.
He doesn’t let me play for long.
Though I don’t remember closing them, my eyelids flutter open as Damien pushes up onto one forearm, allowing himself enough space to reach down and replace the hand I have on his cock with his own.
Firelight glints off our skin, and I stare in rapt fascination as he lines himself up with my entrance.
I watch as he pushes in, my body yielding to his.
See how my legs leap higher on his hips and my back curves off the mattress beneath me, as though his thick cock entering me is seismic activity which carries through my whole body.
See the way his abdominal muscles tighten, and his chest heaves, overcome by how good I’m making him feel.
See my arousal coating his shaft as he pulls out and hear him groan as he sees it, too.
And, as he rolls his hips, entering me in a second deep pulse, that is the last thing I see.
My eyes squeeze shut as, disoriented, I realize I’m coming. It makes no sense. Even as I gasp and moan, heels digging into his ass and thighs trembling against his hips, my mind can’t quite comprehend this is happening.
How could I… we’ve barely even begun?
“Fuck, fuck—” Damien curses, and even through my muddled, pleasure-drunk mind, I feel him moving between my legs, making it last for me as long as he can.
My eyelids flutter open, and I tilt my chin up, desperate for his lips on mine. He doesn’t hesitate to give me what I want, ducking down to kiss me with a rough noise of pleasure.
“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” he growls against my lips, “Were you that worked up?”
“Yes,” I whisper, so far past pretense as my nails dig into the planes of his broad, muscular back. “I’ve been wet for you all night.”
Damien groans, setting a deep, rolling pace between my thighs, still not allowing even an inch of space between us. “You’re driving me out of my mind.”
Yeah, I know the feeling.
We kiss again, and I feel the tremor run through his body as I clench my inner walls over his length, making myself tighter for him.
There is nothing especially kinky or hot about what we’re doing, missionary in the semi-darkness hardly qualifies as exciting—but it is.
I’m not sure I’ve ever felt so present, so close to another person during sex, that even his lips brushing my neck is downright erotic.
I come again, my body convulsing and my cries splitting the air in the quiet cottage, as Damien’s thrusts grow more frantic.
“Yes,” he snarls his approval, one hand tightening in my hair to keep me close. “Christ, I love the way you come.”
Lifting my hips higher on his abdomen, his tip hits a deeper place inside me, and I feel myself getting wetter at the possibility of him finishing inside me again. I think of begging for it.
Instead, my tongue darts out, teasing the seam of his lips, and Damien doesn’t hesitate to give me what I want. He kisses me so deeply it makes my heart twist, as between my legs, his thrusts finally falter.
Heat blooms low in my belly as he shoves himself as deep as he can, and comes, panting against my lips. I hold him through it, my heels digging into his ass and my hands spread on his back, kissing him until he can kiss me in return.
At last, when Damien finally regains the ability to lift his head to look at me properly, his eyes meet mine and something expands in my chest.
This time, there is no going back.