11. Damien
Damien
She was perfect. Absolutely fucking perfect.
The way Luci's body moved against mine, the soft sounds she made, it was like she'd been crafted specifically for me.
My little bird, all sharp angles and fierce eyes, now soft and pliant in my arms. The moonlight caught the silver chain around her neck and something possessive roared in my chest. Mine. She was mine.
Her fingers dug into my shoulders, nails leaving crescent moons in my skin as I drove deeper. The Ferris wheel swayed slightly beneath us, the old metal groaning in protest, but I couldn't bring myself to care about anything except the way she felt wrapped around me.
"Damien," she gasped, her back arching as I hit that spot that made her eyes flutter closed. "Please."
"Please what?" I growled against her throat, my lips tracing the column of her neck. "Use your words, little bird."
She bit down on her lower lip, her eyes flashing with that defiance I loved so much. "Please don't stop."
I chuckled, low and dark, my hips never breaking their rhythm. "Wasn't planning on it."
Her hands tangled in my hair, pulling my mouth back to hers. The kiss was desperate, hungry, her teeth tugging at my bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. The metallic taste filled my mouth, and I laughed against her lips.
I captured her mouth again, swallowing her cries as my hands slid up her sides, pushing her jacket off her shoulders. The October air kissed her skin, raising goosebumps, but her body was burning against mine. She whimpered, her head falling back as I found that spot again.
"Damien," she gasped, her fingers digging into my biceps. "Oh God, Damien."
The way she said my name, like a prayer or maybe a curse, destroyed me every time.
Her inner walls clenched around me, and I knew she was close. I could feel it in the way her breathing changed, the way her body tensed, the way her fingers scrabbled against my back.
"Not yet," I commanded, slowing my pace. "Not until I say so."
"Damien, please." Her voice cracked, desperate, and I had to fight every instinct to give her what she wanted. But she needed to learn patience.
"You'll get what you need when I'm ready to give it to you," I murmured, tracing my fingertips along the curve of her spine.
The moonlight filtering through the watchtower cast flickering shadows over her skin, highlighting every delicate shiver and tremble.
"Shh," I whispered, pressing my lips against the shell of her ear. "You're mine tonight, and I decide when you come."
Her breath hitched, and I felt the tremble of anticipation radiate through her. The way her eyes glistened with need made possessiveness bloom like a black rose in October.
I slid my hands lower, fingers dancing over the smooth expanse of her sides, memorizing every curve like it was a sacred map only I could read.
"Look at you. My perfect little bird, trembling for me."
Her fingers tangled in my hair, pulling me back for a searing kiss. She bit my bottom lip, tugging hard enough to draw a sharp gasp from me, and I laughed low and ragged against her mouth, savoring the taste of her and the fire she ignited in me. This night was ours.
I rolled my hips again, catching that spot that made her gasp, and whispered, "Come for me, little bird."