Chapter 31 Damian
DAMIAN
This is the third bed I’ve collapsed on in less than twenty-four hours, and it’s certainly the best. The Lancaster spares no expense for its guests, especially those handing over stolen credit cards for a premium suite.
I’d called Everett Stalk before we arrived, and he’d confirmed we’d have no trouble securing a room when we both looked a little…
worse for wear. If Stalk was surprised about a ‘rift’ in the family that had us fleeing our home with little more than the clothes on our backs (or less, in Kit’s case), then he didn’t let on.
In fact, once I’d warned him about Kit’s more visible bruising, he’d promised to personally ensure our anonymity within the Lancaster walls.
The moment we stepped through the gleaming, golden doors, we were ushered to one of the more exclusive floors without anyone asking for so much as a name.
I left Lucien’s credit card with the porter, but whether it’ll be charged, I’ve no idea.
I intend for Kit to rack up an astronomical bill just in case.
Starting with breakfast. We’ve ordered one of everything: pancakes, waffles, Continental pastries, a full English, fruit, coffee, and orange juice.
The chef even managed to find some Cocoa Puffs and a carton of chocolate milkshake.
I add some strawberries to my chocolatey concoction, you know, for health, and ignore Kit’s disgusted looks as I shovel down the processed sugar.
Hey, it’s been a hell of a night, don’t judge. I need the energy. Something which I remind Kit of while he finishes dipping a croissant into his, I shit you not, gold-dusted cappuccino.
“Shall I run you a bath after this?” I ask Kit, scraping out the bottom of my bowl. “That tub looks incredible. I’ve never seen so many jets before.”
“Um, maybe later,” Kit says, taking a hefty gulp from his coffee to avoid looking at me. “Thanks, though.”
Huh. That’s strange. “I think you should. Your shoulder must be killing you. The hot water would be good for it, not to mention your feet.”
I’d nearly cried when I saw the filthy cuts and blisters littered across Kit’s delicate arches.
Thinking about the pain he must have felt when being dragged through that forest makes my blood boil all over again.
I’d made sure to kick Lucien in the ribs extra hard after I saw the blood seeping through Kit’s borrowed socks…
And then once more in the groin for luck.
“My shoulder’s feeling better now,” Kit lies. “I’ll ask that porter to send up some ibuprofen, and I’ll be good as new.”
“Roll your shoulders back,” I dare him.
Kit sniffs haughtily, turning away from me and sticking his nose in the air. “No. I don’t want to.”
I raise my brow at the back of his head. “Okay, Kit. What’s going on?”
Kit sags forward, gripping the hotel robe around himself so tightly that his knuckles turn white. “I know it’s stupid. I just feel like… Urgh, it’s ridiculous, I’m being ridiculous.”
Then, it all clicks into place. I could kick myself for not thinking of this before. “You’re worried about someone watching us? About hidden cameras?”
“Like I said, it’s stupid,” he grumbles.
“I didn’t even worry about it when we got back to the cottage, but now that all the adrenaline’s gone, it’s sort of hit me.
I can’t stop thinking about how your dad knows Stalk, and that this is Stalk’s family’s place.
The link is shoddy at best, I mean, the guy didn’t even know Lucien’s name at that gala, but I can’t get it out of my head.
What if Stalk’s just a good actor? Isn’t he in security?
Wouldn’t he have access to all these hi-tech cameras and stuff? ”
His tired eyes flit to the corners of the room, searching for devices that aren’t there. I don’t think Stalk has anything to do with this. It seems far too… beneath him. But fear isn’t rational, and right now Kit has every right to be afraid.
“Okay, I’m going to go over every inch of this room. If there’s a camera in here, I’ll find it.”
“You don’t have to—”
“It’ll only take a few minutes. And it’ll be worth it if it helps you relax. Or, you know, take a bath.”
“I suppose,” Kit says hesitantly.
I hop off the bed and pull out the desk chair to drag it to the nearest corner of the room. Thankfully, it isn’t one of those on wheels…
The first corner’s clear, so is the picture rail that runs along the wall, and the second corner as well. The mirror fixed to the back wall passes the ‘no space, leave the place’ test, something I found by chance on TikTok one night. Thank fuck for that algorithm.
The bathroom is fine, as are all the cabinets. Finally, I climb back onto the chair to check above the beautiful antique wardrobe beside the bed.
“Shit, fuck, motherfucking, shitting fuck, ahh!” I fall back off the chair and tumble ass about face to land on the bed next to Kit.
Kit pales, which is hard when he’s barely got any colour left to begin with. “What is it? What have you found?”
Oh, I might have fucked up…
“Um… there’s… there’s a spider up there, right at the back.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Kit grabs the nearest pillow and smacks me in the face. And, yeah, fair enough. “You absolute dick, you scared me half to death. I thought you’d found a camera!”
“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” I moan, trying to block his incessant thwacks. “But it was massive. It looked at me! You know I can’t stand spiders.”
“For fuck’s sake, it’s a good job you’re pretty. Push me off the bed, I’ll get it.”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that. There are definitely no cameras hidden up there anyway. The room is completely clear.” I try to make my voice sound unperturbed. I fail.
“Are you going to be able to relax knowing there’s a spider up there, just waiting for you to let down your guard so it can swing over on its little web and crawl into your mouth?”
I shudder violently. “Sure. Doesn’t bother me at all.”
Kit rolls his eyes. “Calm down, Billy Big Bollocks. You checked the room for cameras, so I’ll deal with Mr Eight-Legs.”
He hoists himself off the bed and carefully climbs onto the cushioned chair.
I stand beneath him just in case he falls, which is hard while also maintaining a respectful distance from the creepy crawly.
Rising to his toes, Kit reaches to the back of the wardrobe with his good arm and manages to grab the spider in his hand.
“Open that window,” he nods, stepping off the chair. “I’ll drop it out.”
I race to open the latch and back as far away as I can until Kit opens his cupped hands. A fuzzy black blob drops down on the other side of the glass, hopefully into a plant pot or something. I want it gone, not dead. I’m not a monster.
“There. All sorted,” Kit says, shutting the window.
My hero.
Now, with no beady eyes watching us, be they arachnid or perverted, I make good on my promise and run Kit a bubble bath.
He luxuriates in the water, dipping below the suds and easing the ache in his muscles.
I’d join him, but I think he needs this time to relax, to remind his body that he’s safe.
So, I perch against the marbled basins and keep him company.
Of course, when he rises from the bath and flicks his wet hair back to catch me where I stand, it’s hard to hold onto my convictions.
Water droplets trickle down his spectacular body, begging me to trace their journey with my tongue.
“See something you like?” Kit taunts, lifting his legs higher than necessary to step out of the tub.
I do, oh boy, I do. But I also see the bruising around his neck, the cuts around his wrists and jawline, and the swelling around his shoulder.
“Come on,” I say softly, wrapping him in the towel I’ve been warming on the rail. “We’re going to bed. We need to at least try to sleep.”
“But it’s already after breakfast,” Kit yawns and pouts at the same time. It’s really quite a feat.
“If you have a nap now, I’ll let you do anything you want when we wake up.”
“Promise?” Kit slurs, already crawling under the puffy duvet.
“Promise.”
Bliss. Heaven. Aching goodness inside a warm, wet heat.
I roll my hips, diving deeper into the welcoming friction that surrounds my hard, throbbing prick. There’s sunlight on my skin, bathing me in cool comfort, even as fevered touches chase away the serenity with zealous need.
A satiated moan rumbles from between my thighs, crashing over my body like an inviting wave. My eyes flutter open.
“What are you doing?” I stupidly ask the head bobbing over my dick. It’s a needless question, but I’m hardly to blame when Kit’s doing this swirling thing with his tongue.
I flex into the torment.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” Kit hums smugly against my dripping cock. “I’m thanking you for saving me.”
Then, he flicks his tongue into my sensitive slit, and my mind explodes into a vast expanse of pleasure.
“Oh, fuck!” Before I can register what I’m doing, I fist my hands into his hair and push him down, mindlessly burying myself inside his sinful mouth until the entrance to his throat spasms around me.
Shit, shit! I let go immediately. “I’m sorry, Kit. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Kit rasps, his blown eyes snapping hungrily from my face to my cock and back again. “Fuck my throat, Damian, I want you to. See if I can take it.”
I don’t know if he’s an angel sent to please me or the devil here to test me, but either way, I’m tempted.
Kit bends towards my dick, blowing gently over my leaking head, before swallowing me down to my root. He gags beautifully, but doesn’t pull back, holding me in place by my straining thighs.
“Ngh, Kit!”
His fingers tighten against my skin, reminding me that I’m meant to be doing something other than lying back and taking it. I wrap my hand in his soft strands and hold him in place, hitting the back of his throat in one, desperate thrust.
Kit moans against me as his eyes roll back in his head. I thrust again, if only to watch him fully surrender to the urgent need building between us.
I drive my cock into his mouth, fire surging from the base of my spine and engulfing my entire body as my rhythm starts to stutter. Then, just as I’m about to paint his throat with my release, Kit pulls off with an obscene pop.
“If you think I’m going to let you come anywhere but inside my ass, you’re sorely mistaken.”
I press my balled fists into my eyes to obscure the sight of a wanton Kit. If I look at him hard enough, I’ll come without a single touch, and that can’t happen. Kit told me not to.
I take a deep, cleansing breath and shakily blow it out again. Nope, it’s no use. It doesn’t work. I’m still strung too tightly.
The bed sinks beneath my body, my only clue that Kit is climbing over me.
With sure, warm hands, he pulls my fists from my eyes.
Then, with a self-satisfied, wicked smirk on his face, he reaches back and grabs a small vial of massage oil he must have pilfered from the bathroom.
Yes, this place is fancy enough to stock more than a three-in-one body, hand, and hair wash.
Kit doesn’t say anything. He just lets me watch as he pours a generous stream onto his hand and grabs my hurting dick. His strokes are painfully slow, the purpose to ensure I’m fully covered rather than the pleasure of the act itself. And then, without any warning, Kit rises on his thighs…
And sinks down on my cock.
“Kit,” I gasp, my head thrown back into the pillows. “Kit, wait. I don’t want to hurt you.”
He rises again, dropping down further this time, taking me almost to the hilt.
“You were asleep for a while,” he says breathlessly. “I prepped in the bathroom.”
I think of Kit shut away in the next room, his foot on the tub, and his fingers buried deep in his ass as he dreams of my length inside him. Maybe he had to bite his knuckles to stop himself from crying out. Maybe he had to pull out his fingers before he came from thoughts of me.
“Fuck, Kit!” I cling to his thighs, feeling his muscles bunch beneath my fingers as he gradually adjusts to the intrusion.
He’s so perfect wrapped around me, his hole stretched to its limit, taking all of me. I can feel him everywhere, but still I need more. I reach behind him, trailing my hand over his thigh and up over the tight skin at his hip. Then, I move lower, lower, lower until I can feel our joining.
With a trembling finger, I trace around my cock, feeling how his once puckered hole has stretched to accommodate me. Kit keens, arching into my touch as I circle his sensitive rim.
“Is that good?” I ask arrogantly.
Kit rides me faster, the only answer I need.
“One day, I’ll push this inside you, too. Would you like that? Would you like to feel my cock and my fingers pressing into your tight hole together?”
“Oh god, more!” Kit cries, his thrusts frantic as I tease him. I won’t breach him like this today. He’s not ready. But someday, someday soon, he’ll take everything I have to offer.
Kit’s hips falter, his thrusts frustratingly shallow as he struggles to satiate his need on my rigid length. His thighs must be tired, especially after last night. So, I wrap my hands behind his knees and flip us over, keeping my cock inside his burning heat as I land on top of him.
“Yes!” Kit moans. “Fuck me. God, fuck me, Damian. Let me feel you!” Kit’s erotic cries throw fuel on the flames licking through my veins, and I slam into him over and over, gripping his hips until I find that spot that makes him scream.
I grind against him, my balls pressed against his ass as I target his prostate mercilessly. Kit is incoherent, a stuttering mess beneath me until he curves off the bed and screws his eyes tight.
“Damian!” he yells, cum arching over his stomach as he finds his peak completely untouched.
“Oh, Christ,” I groan, fucking him through his orgasm. His grip around me is relentless, strangling my cock so hard that I can barely move inside of him.
My length pulses incessantly, tension boiling in the pit of my stomach as an electric climax coils in anticipation.
Then, when Kit’s hold on me loosens, I crash into him with one last brutal thrust and unload inside of him, holding myself as deep as he’ll have me until I’m completely blinded by pleasure.
My release drains every ounce of energy and lucid thought out of me, offering them to Kit as my arms give out and I collapse in a heap on top of him.
“I love you, Kit,” I pant, running my nose through his sweaty hair to savour the scent of our coupling.
Kit wraps his heavy arms around me, languishing in his own way by stopping me from moving off him… or out of him. “I love you too,” he sighs. “You’re the only person that matters to me, Damian. The only one.”
I strain my head back so I can look at him while still keeping myself plastered to his chest. “You and me forever, right?”
Kit smiles like I’ve just given him the world. He nods, pulling me back to him.
“You and me forever.”