Chapter 16 Damon #2
The thrill that dances up my spine and zings of desire that are ping-ponging through me are just two more reminders of how fucked in the head I am, but that doesn’t stop me from lifting my hands and reaching for him.
My fingers brush against his sweater, and a shiver dances up my spine. Anticipation tightens my chest as I run my palms down the soft material and slip them under the hem of his sweater.
Not being able to see what I’m doing is making everything that much hotter. I had no idea I was into sensory deprivation, but considering some of the other stuff I’ve learned about myself recently, it’s really not that surprising.
Xave’s grip on my hair softens as I pop the button on his jeans, and he lets go when I tug the zipper of his fly down.
“That’s it,” he says, his tone full of heat and encouragement. “Now pull my dick out.”
Thank fuck for the darkness around us because I can feel my hands shaking as I slip one under the waistband of his underwear and grip his cock.
He’s hard and hot against my skin, and my stomach clenches as I carefully pull him out.
I didn’t get to touch him at the AV party, and the reality of holding his thick cock is so much better than the snippets of memories I have of the rave.
“There you go,” he says softly. “You’re doing good.”
There’s something different about his voice. It’s still the same sexy, slightly raspy tone that’s way hotter than it has any business being, but there’s a hint of praise under it that hits me right in the chest.
Do I have a praise kink?
I already learned I have a thing for degradation after Xave called me a slut and told me about all the ways he wanted to use me in front of whatever witnesses happen to be around, but that’s not all that surprising considering the other stuff I’m into.
But praise is different. It’s on the opposite end of the spectrum from my other kinks, and it’s not something that’s ever really mattered to me in my everyday life.
I don’t seek out praise or acceptance from people, ever, and I don’t give a shit what anyone thinks of me.
Of everything I’m discovering about myself, it makes the least amount of sense.
But is it the praise that’s getting me off, or do I like it so much because Xave is the one praising me?
Shaking off that thought, I grip him by the base and lean in.
I’ve wanted to taste him again since the night of the rave, and now that I can do it with a clear head and actually remember it tomorrow, I’m not going to worry about why Xave’s words are getting me hot.
The first brush of his cockhead against my tongue makes me groan, and I’m embarrassingly eager as I wrap my lips around him and draw his length into my mouth.
He feels good. The weight of him against my tongue, the way his girth stretches my lips, and the heady scent of musk and man are a thousand times better than any of my fantasies or the pieces of my memories from the rave.
His taste explodes on my tongue, and I suck him all the way to the back of my throat on the first pass.
His groan is low and deep, and I swallow around his cockhead, trying to coax more of those pleasure sounds from him.
“Fuuuck,” he rasps, drawing the word out. “That’s it. Show me what a good cocksucker you are.”
His words, and the way he says them, hit something deep inside me, and I move over him, sucking and swallowing and using my tongue to tease the underside of his shaft.
He’s not being quiet, and every grunt and groan is like music to my ears as I work him over.
Everything about him is turning me on, from the feel of him in my mouth to the masculine sounds of him enjoying my attention, and I almost purr around him when he cards his fingers through my hair and gently grips the strands.
I’m expecting him to either hold me still so he can fuck my mouth, or use his grip to move me over him, but he doesn’t. And the light touch only adds to my desire.
My cock is so hard it feels like it’s being crushed in my pants, but the only thing I can focus on is how good Xave feels and how much I want to make him come.
“Yeah,” he murmurs when I wrap my hand around the part of him I can’t fit in my mouth and move it in tandem so I’m stroking and sucking him at a fast pace. “That’s it. Make me feel good.”
I moan around his length as he shifts his hand to cradle the side of my head, and I almost purr like a damn cat when he gently rubs his fingers against my scalp.
“You like being on your knees for me, don’t you?” he asks, still rubbing my head like he knows exactly what I want and how to give it to me.
I can’t answer with his dick pressing down my throat, so I hum around his length and take him even deeper.
He rumbles out a low groan. “Yeah, you do.”
His other hand slips into my hair, and he gently grips the strands so he can hold me in place.
“That’s it,” he murmurs. “Stay just like that and let me fuck that pretty mouth of yours.”
A strange sense of calm settles over me, and I grip his thick thighs as he slowly rocks his hips.
“Fuck yeah,” he says on a soft groan. “You feel so fucking good. Like you were made to be on your knees for me.”
His words are affecting me almost as much as being used like this, and I rub my tongue against the underside of his shaft to give him a little extra stimulation.
“Yeah,” he grunts. “You’re gonna make me come if you keep that up,” he says.
I want that. Want to feel him come and swallow every drop he gives me.
It’s actually scary how much I want it, but I don’t dwell on it and instead focus on swallowing around his cockhead and using my tongue on him as he speeds up his thrusts until he’s fucking my mouth like a man possessed.
“That’s it,” he says, his voice harsh through his labored breaths. “Just like that. You’re gonna make me come so hard.”
His grip on my hair tightens, and he starts pulling me to meet his thrusts. He’s going hard and fast, but not too deep, and I sink into the moment and let him take what he wants.
“Oh fuck,” he says, a hint of urgency creeping into his tone. His thighs are shaking under my hands, and I tip my head back so he slides even deeper with every punishing thrust.
He curses and yanks me close, driving his cock down my throat. He holds it there for a few seconds, then pulls back so he’s not choking me with it as he comes with a low cry and erupts in my mouth.
I eagerly swallow him down, reveling in the knowledge that I did that. I made Xave come, and I’m way too giddy as he pulls his dick out of my mouth, the last spurt of his cum landing on my lips as he finishes shooting.
“Holy fuck,” he pants. “Goddamn, you’re good at that.”
Something akin to pride fills me at his words, and I’m grinning like a moron when he grabs me under the arms and hauls me to my feet.
I stumble and cry out as he shoves me back against the tree, but my cries turn into gasps as he presses his body against mine and pins me to the thick trunk with his bulk.
“You liked that,” he says and rubs his hand against my cock.
I groan and squirm under him. I’m so sensitive the pressure is almost too much, and I actually whimper when he gives my length a hard squeeze.
“You liked being on your knees for me, didn’t you?” he asks, his lips next to my ear as he jerks me hard and fast.
“Yes,” I whisper before I can stop myself.
He lets out a pleased-sounding rumble and presses closer so his body is flush against mine.
“I bet you’d love it if I turned you around and fucked you right here,” he rasps, his hot breath fanning over my cheek with every word.
I moan and let my head fall back against the tree as I try not to thrust into his hand. He’s right. I do want that.
There’s something incredibly freeing about being at his mercy like this, and knowing he could do whatever he wanted to me and I wouldn’t be able to stop him is way hotter than it should be.
Not only is Xave bigger than me, he’s stronger, and he’s a killer. I should be terrified of him, especially since I don’t really know him and the only interactions we’ve had were either while we were drugged, kidnapped, or at a party where we didn’t say a single word to each other.
But I’m not.
I don’t understand how I know this, but I know he’s not going to hurt me. Not for real, anyway.
“Yeah, you would,” he continues, still stroking my dick like he’s mad at it. “You’d let me because you know who that ass belongs to.”
He abruptly lets go of my dick, and I barely manage to bite back my cry of protest. I’m so close it hurts, and I just need a little bit more so I can finally come.
“Fuck it,” he mutters, and before I can even try to figure out what’s going on, he spins me around and shoves me against the tree.
I catch myself with my hands so my chest doesn’t slam into the hard trunk, and I cling to it like a drowning man in the ocean as I blink into the darkness.
My entire body is vibrating with need as he yanks my hips back so I’m bent over at the waist, then flips the bottom of my jacket up to expose my bare ass to the cold air.
“Oh, fuck.” I grip the tree harder as he slips one finger between my ass cheeks and presses it against my hole.
No one has ever touched me there, and a jolt of pleasure shoots through me as I unconsciously clench around nothing.
I might not have done any sort of ass play with another person, but I’ve experimented with my fingers and a couple of toys I keep in my room. My fumbling attempts felt good, but they had nothing on that simple touch.
“You’re such a slut for it,” he says, and the unexpected affection in his voice helps calm some of my nerves as he pushes a bit harder against my hole.
It’s not enough to breach me, but the implication that he could is there, and I automatically relax for him so the tip of his finger dips inside me on the next push.
“So eager for it,” he says in that same affection-tinged tone, and pulses his finger a few times, slipping a bit deeper with each gentle push. “So tight,” he murmurs and pulls his finger away.