Chapter 47
CASSANDRA
My heart’s racing as we climb the staircase, Damien’s hand warm in mine. His grin—wicked, hot, and all mine—pulls me like gravity. Clara’s safe, sleeping soundly downstairs, the world outside a whisper of snow and pale blue sky.
We barely make it through the bedroom door before he’s on me, his good hand cupping my face, mouth crashing into mine. The kiss is hungry, deep, his tongue teasing my own as I melt against him, fingers curling into his shirt. I’m careful of his wound, my touch light but urgent, tugging him closer.
“Easy, tiger,” I murmur against his mouth, smiling as he growls low and playful.
“Easy’s not in my vocabulary today,” he says, voice rough with desire. His eyes are soft, reverent, tracing my face with adoration. “You’re carrying our baby, Cassandra. You’re my fucking miracle.”
His hand slides to my stomach, a gentle touch that makes my heart stutter.
I pull him toward the bed, shedding my clothes along the way, letting them pool on the floor.
He strips his shirt carefully, revealing the hard planes of his chest, the bandage tinged slightly with red.
I straddle his lap as he sits on the edge of the bed, my thighs bracketing his, my slit already wet against the bulge in his pants.
“You’re my miracle too,” I whisper, kissing him slow and deep, savoring the taste of him.
His hands roam my back, fingers tracing my spine, sending shivers through me.
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he murmurs, lips brushing my collarbone as he unclasps my bra.
My breasts spill free, and he groans, mouth closing over a nipple, sucking gently.
I arch into him, my pussy aching, grinding against his hard cock.
“Careful,” I tease, “you don’t want to tear those stitches, big guy.”
“Let me worry about that,” he says, smirking, but he’s gentle as he lifts me, laying me back on the bed. He kneels between my legs, kissing down my stomach, his lips lingering where our baby grows. “You’re so perfect,” he whispers, voice thick with awe, and I feel tears prick my eyes.
He kneels between my legs, eyes dark with desire, and slides my panties down, the cotton whispering against my skin.
His hands part my thighs, exposing my slick pussy to the cool air.
A shiver runs through me as his lips brush my inner thigh, teasing, before his tongue finds my clit, circling slow and deliberate, a soft, wet pressure that sends sparks up my spine.
I moan, hands fisting the sheets, the fabric bunching under my grip as he licks my pussy with agonizing precision, his tongue flattening, then flicking, tracing the sensitive edges of my folds.
“God, you’re so good at that. How are you so good at that?”
Each lap is a pulse, building heat in my core, my hips trembling under his steady hands. He sucks gently, drawing my clit into his mouth, the sensation sharp and electric, making my breath hitch.
“Come for me, angel.”
His tongue dives deeper, lapping at my entrance, then returning to my clit with relentless focus, pushing me higher until my body arches, hips bucking wildly.
The orgasm crashes through me, a white-hot wave, my pussy clenching as I cry out, my thighs shaking as he holds me steady, his tongue never pausing, drawing out every shudder until I’m panting, spent, and still craving more.
“Damien,” I gasp, still shaking. He climbs up, kissing me deeply, letting me taste myself on his lips. He sheds his pants, his cock thick and heavy, glistening with precum. I reach for him, stroking his length, loving the way he groans and tips his head back.
“I want you inside me,” I say. I guide his thick cock to my entrance, my fingers trembling with anticipation.
Damien shifts above me, his body a warm weight, careful of his bandaged side. He pushes in slow, stretching my pussy perfectly, filling me completely until I gasp, my walls clenching around his length.
I wrap my legs around his waist, mindful of his stitches, anchoring him close as we find a tender rhythm, bodies pressed flush, hearts pounding in sync. His eyes lock onto mine, dark with love and hunger, a gaze that strips me bare.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he murmurs, voice low and dirty, but woven with adoration. “You’re mine, aren’t you, angel?”
I nod, moaning softly, my hands gripping his shoulders, feeling the muscle flex under my fingers, warm and solid. “All yours,” I whisper, voice breaking as he kisses me, his tongue mirroring the slow, deep thrusts of his cock, a sensual dance that lights every nerve.
His hips roll, each stroke dragging against my sensitive walls. The pressure builds, a sweet, aching heat coiling in my core.
“You’re so fucking perfect,” he says, lips brushing mine. My fingers dig into his back, urging him deeper, the world narrowing to his thrusts and the love in his eyes.
I come hard, my pussy spasming around him, a cry of his name tearing from my throat as pleasure floods through me, waves of bliss leaving me trembling beneath him.
Damien rolls us over, his strong hands guiding me until I’m straddling his hips, his cock still hard and throbbing inside me.
“Ride me, baby,” he says, his voice a low growl, hands gripping, steadying me as I slide up and down his cock, his thick length hitting every sensitive spot with delicious precision.
I move slow at first, savoring the deep, full stretch, my walls hugging him tight as I roll my hips, teasing him with every rise and fall.
His eyes darken, a hungry glint as he watches my breasts bounce, my body moving above him. I pick up the pace, grinding harder, my clit brushing against him with every movement, sending sparks through me.
“You love this, don’t you?” I tease, leaning forward, lips brushing his ear. “Your cock feels so fucking good, baby, and it’s all mine.” His thumb finds my clit, circling with firm, steady pressure, and I gasp, my rhythm faltering as pleasure builds, sharp and relentless.
“That’s it,” he growls, “fuck me like you mean it.”
My pussy clenches, the heat overwhelming, and I lose it, another orgasm ripping through me, my walls wrapping around him as I cry out. I collapse against his chest, panting, my body trembling with bliss.
He flips us gently back into that perfect position of his body covering mine, always careful of his wound.
“I love you,” he whispers, thrusting slow and deep, his cock filling me as his eyes hold mine. I wrap my arms around him, legs locked around his waist, pulling him closer.
“I love you too,” I say, voice breaking with emotion. We move together, tender but raw, his shaft dragging against my walls, building that final, perfect pressure.
“Come with me,” he murmurs. We climb together, his thrusts quickening, my pussy tightening around him. We shatter as one, his release hot inside me, my orgasm pulsing through every nerve, our cries mingling as we cling to each other.
He collapses beside me and pulls me into his arms, my head on his chest, his heartbeat steady under my cheek. I’m boneless and sated, exhaustion creeping in, surprising me.
“I’m ready for a nap,” I laugh softly, tracing the edge of his bandage.
“Then sleep, angel. I’m not going anywhere.”
As sleep pulls at me, I think of Clara downstairs, healing and safe, though there are still dangers lurking beyond these walls.
Damien’s love is a fortress, his body a shield, but even he can’t stop every threat. I’ll rest now, wrapped in his warmth, but tomorrow, I’ll sharpen my own edges—for our baby, for Clara, for the life we’re building.