20. Damian
20
Damian
I run my hand down Alina’s back, my fingers sweeping along the tiny bumps of her spine. I cup her ass, her perfect, round ass as I kiss her. My blood burns. I want to be inside her. I want her soft and pliant beneath me. I want her screaming my name. I want to own her every thought, her every breath. What the fuck is wrong with me?
I take her hand and lead her to our stateroom. I open the door and draw her inside, flicking on the bedside lamp, bathing the room in a soft glow.
Alina trails a fingertip along the pale, sleek paneling of the wall, her gaze shifting to take in the view of the moonlit seascape through the panoramic windows.
“Wow,” she whispers.
She turns to the bed and runs her palm over the silk duvet, then lifts one of the multitude of throw pillows and hugs it to her chest. Turning her head, she sends me a little smile over her shoulder as she opens a door to check out the walk-in closet and another to reveal the ensuite bathroom.
“I have something far more interesting for you to explore,” I say.
“Oh?” She arches a brow and rakes her nails down my chest, my abdomen, hooking a finger in the waistband of my pants.
Pulling her against me, I kiss her. Her lips are lush and full, and the little whimper she makes is so fucking sexy.
“I want you naked,” I say against her mouth, my hands gathering the flowing material of her dress, dragging it up her body, over her head. I step back and admire the way she looks standing there in her panties and bra. I turn her so her back is to me and unhook her bra, peeling it down her arms.
Her breathing speeds up.
I curl my fingers into the top of her panties and slide them down her legs, those endless, perfect legs, taking my time, skimming my fingers along her skin. I lift one foot then the other, pulling her panties free. Then I step back and walk a slow circle around her to admire the view.
“Fucking perfect, that’s what you are,” I say, my voice rough.
She wets her lips, swollen from my kisses, her gaze flashing to mine. Her pupils are dilated, her irises only a thin rim of blue. I stroke first one nipple, then the other, pink and swollen. Again, she makes that soft whimper.
Blood rushes to my cock. I’m hard as steel just looking at her.
I move to stand behind her, dragging my palm along the indent of her waist, the flare of her hip, the curve of her ass, her skin so soft and smooth.
Without warning, I spank her ass. She gasps and shifts foot to foot but makes no protest. My slap left a faint pink mark. My mark. A primitive part of me howls. Mine .
I imagine keeping her, never letting her go, tattooing my mark in her skin. Tattooing her mark in mine. My cock gets even harder.
Yeah, I’m a fucking Neanderthal.
I cup her breasts from behind, rolling her nipples between my thumb and forefinger, pinching them lightly, then harder. With a whimper, she arches into my touch and pushes her ass against my rock-hard cock, wriggling against me.
“Bad girl,” I murmur and slap her ass again. She gasps but still doesn’t protest. “You like that?” I ask, my lips against her ear.
“I don’t know,” she whispers, pauses, then says, “Maybe?”
I knead the swell of her ass and from the way she hums softly, I think her maybe might be leaning toward a yes.
I turn her to face me and kiss her lush mouth, her pale neck, the curve of her collarbone, then I lower my head, sucking first on one nipple, then the other, leaving them wet. I’m gentle, using almost no pressure. Then I suck harder, use my tongue, my teeth. Her fingers tangle in my hair, pulling me closer as she makes a low sound of pleasure.
That sound is like a velvet stroke on my cock.
I slide my fingers between her legs and find her wet and ready. Then, eyes locked on hers, I bring my fingers to her lips, push them into her mouth.
“Suck,” I order. “Taste how much you want me.”
She sucks and my cock presses against my zipper, so hard it hurts.
“I’m going to make you come with my tongue on your clit and my finger in your ass.”
She makes an inarticulate sound, half whimper, half groan. I pull my fingers from her mouth.
“Would you like that, Alina?” I want no misunderstandings between us. I want to claim every part of her, own every part of her, and I want her consent. I want her to want it. I want her to need it, to need me like she needs air.
“Don’t make me—” She shakes her head.
“Don’t make you what? Don’t make you do it? Don’t make you want it? Don’t make you say it?”
She wets her lips. “Don’t make me say it.”
“Oh, but you have to, pretty girl. It’s the only way. Would you like my tongue on your clit and my finger in your ass, Alina?”
A heartbeat. Two. But of course I know the answer before she speaks. I’ve known her answer since the first second I saw her.
“Yes,” she whispers, her voice low, the word torn from her.
My mouth crashes down on hers, my kiss rough, demanding, my tongue pushing past the seam of her lips. I lower her to the bed, my weight full atop her, my hips pinning her. She kisses me back, frantic, desperate, writhing beneath me, her hands tangled in my hair.
Then I kiss my way down her body, nipping her smooth skin, making her writhe.
I lift my head and watch her as I slide my palms up the insides of her thighs, forcing her legs wider. I kiss her belly, the inside of her thigh. The scent of her arousal twists my lust even tighter. I want to devour her, mark her, own her.
I slide my tongue along her wet folds, again, again, my fingers splayed along her upper thighs, holding her still as she strains against my hold. Needing. Wanting.
The taste of her is like a drug as I lick and suck her clit.
She jerks and begs, the sound so fucking gorgeous. “Damian, please, please…”
I pin her hips with my forearm, holding her in place as I nip the inside of her thigh, then lick her to soothe the hurt. Then I lick up the centre of her cunt, again and again while she squirms and tangles her fingers in my hair.
With my free hand, I smear her moisture from her pussy to the crack of her ass, then press my finger against her asshole, pushing just the tip inside as I suck her clit. I slide my finger out, push it back in, my tongue stroking her clit. She thrusts her hips and gasps, low and breathy. Her heels press against the sheets, her whole body strung taut, as if my forearm pinning her hips is the only thing stopping her from fucking levitating.
Her body is my toy, my instrument, my clay.
I push my finger deep in her ass and I suck her clit hard. She screams, her whole body jerking, her muscles twitching and trembling as she comes.
I don’t give her a chance to recover.
I climb her body and press my mouth to hers, her taste on my tongue and on her own.
I push my cock inside her, rough, hard. She wraps her legs around my back, her arms around my shoulders, her mouth eager as she returns my kiss, her body still pliant from her orgasm as I take her. Fuck her.
I am anything but gentle. Anything but giving. I take what I want, what I need, balls deep inside her.
Beneath me, I feel Alina start to come again, her muscles tightening, her body spasming. With a roar, I let go, my orgasm crashing through me in an endless wave.
Finally, I roll to the side to keep from crushing her. She nuzzles against me, her face buried in the crook of my neck. Then she tips her head and looks up at me, her expression soft, open, full of trust, full of…affection.
No woman has ever looked at me like that. With good reason. I’ve never let a woman close enough for her to even consider it. I’ve never wanted to before.
I feel Alina’s trust like a gut punch.
I brought her here so my brother can interrogate her. I brought her to the middle of the fucking ocean where the only thing that stands between her and harm is me.
I brought her because the head of my family ordered it.
Even worse, I brought her because, selfishly, I wanted her with me.
What the fuck is wrong with me?