Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
DAMON
The drive home is quiet. Blake’s eyes keep drifting closed, then snapping back open like she’s fighting to stay awake. I’m still a nervous wreck, my chest is tight, and I’m so ready to have Blake all to myself, to keep her safe and cared for, knowing not a single thing can happen to her.
“You can rest,” I tell her, keeping one hand on the wheel and the other rubbing circles on her thigh. “They said it’s okay as long as someone’s monitoring you.”
“Let me guess, you’re going to watch me sleep?” she asks, her voice husky.
“If you thought I never let you out of my sight before, just wait.”
“Stalker,” she says with a chuff.
“You love it.”
She laces her fingers through mine, and that small act of connection calms my nerves. “We really need to work on our definition of a quiet Christmas.”
“Next year. Next year, we’re going somewhere remote with no cell service and no one who needs saving. And most importantly, alone.”
“Sure we will.” I hear the smile in her voice. “We’ll probably stumble into some conspiracy within the first hour, having to call everyone to meet us, and make some elaborate plan.”
I huff, hating to admit that she’s right. “Probably, Angel… Probably.”
By the time I pull into the driveway, her head is resting against the window and her eyes are barely open.
I carry her inside, letting the soft white lights we strung along the iron banister lead the way. She wakes up halfway to the door, thankfully missing the huge package waiting by the door.
We go right to the bathroom, and she insists on brushing her own teeth, swatting my hand away when I try to do it for her. I hover behind her, ready to catch her if she falls.
“I’m okay,” she mumbles around her toothbrush.
“I know.”
I help her out of her bloodstained scrubs and she doesn’t fight me. She’s moving on autopilot now. I can see exhaustion winning.
I grab one of my old, worn, band tees from the drawer and slip it over her head. She doesn’t even protest, just lets me maneuver her arms through the sleeves.
“Come on, Angel. Let’s get you in bed.”
She shuffles to the bed and crawls under the covers, burrowing into the pillows with a contented sigh.
With her settled, I strip down to my boxers, tossing my ruined clothes toward the hamper. I’ll deal with the blood stains tomorrow. Right now I need to feel her.
I slide in and move as close as I can until she curls into me, resting her bandaged head on my chest, and hooking one leg over mine.
“Merry Christmas,” she mumbles against my skin.
I lean in to kiss her forehead, inhaling deeply, letting her very being reach into my soul. She’s alive. She’s safe. She’s mine.
Her breathing starts to even out within seconds, but I feel her lashes flutter against my skin.
“Damon?”
“Yeah, baby?”
“Love you.” The words are slurred with sleep. “Even if you’re obsessive and unhinged.”
Fuck, I love her.
I smile into the darkness. “Love you too. Even if you’re stubborn and give me heart attacks.”
“Perfect match,” she whispers.
“Perfect match.”
Within moments, she’s out completely. I can feel her heartbeat steady against my ribs and her breath warm on my chest.
I lie there holding her, one hand resting on her upper arm, the other wrapped around her waist, listening to her breathe.
But as the minutes turn to hours, my mind won’t fucking stop replaying the night.
I keep seeing it like a horror movie made just for me. The moment I burst through that door and saw her crumpled on the floor. The blood. So much blood spreading across the white marble. Her body limp and unconscious in my arms.
My chest squeezes and throat tightens.
What if she didn’t wake up? What if the fall was worse, if she landed harder? What if I lost her?
The thoughts spiral, each one darker and more fucked than the last, until I can barely breathe.
I need—
Fuck, I don’t even know what I need.
Yes, I do.
I need to be closer. Even closer than we are now. Need to feel her. Need to know she’s real and alive and mine.
I trail my hand down her side, over the curve of her hip. Her skin is so soft, so fucking perfect. She shifts a bit, murmuring something in her sleep.
I shouldn’t. She’s hurt. She needs rest.
But I can’t stop myself.
My fingers slip beneath the hem of my shirt she’s wearing, skating across her soft stomach. She’s so warm. I close my eyes and tell myself again and again—she’s alive. But feeling her warmth, her skin, seeing her chest rise and fall… it isn’t enough.
“Blake,” I whisper against her hair, even though I know she’s asleep.
I ease her onto her back, being careful of her head. She doesn’t wake, just sighs and turns her face toward me. Always toward me, like I’m her anchor, even in her dreams.
God, she’s beautiful. Even with the bandage wrapped around her head, even exhausted and bruised, she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
I slide my hand higher, cupping her tit in my palm, rubbing my finger over her nipple until it pebbles in my hand. I’m already hard and dripping.
I shift to position myself between her legs, and she parts for me instinctively.
“That’s my girl,” I murmur, pressing kisses along her jaw and down her neck.
She stirs again and moans softly in her sleep.
“Shh, Angel. Just let me take care of you.”
I slide her underwear down her legs, then free myself from my boxers. The head of my cock brushes against her pussy and I have to bite back a groan so I don’t wake her.
It takes everything in me not to bury myself inside her in one thrust. I need to. It’s the only way I’ll know she’s safe, that she’s mine.
I reach with one hand and glide a finger between her lips. “Mmm, fuck.” She’s already so wet and warm for me. I can’t hold back.
Lining my cock up with her entrance, I push inside slowly, inch by inch, feeling her stretch around me. She’s so fucking tight. So perfect.
“Shit,” I grit out, fisting the sheet to keep from fucking her as hard as I want to.
She hears me. Her eyes flutter open, unfocused. “Damon?” That raspy, sleepy voice does something to me.
“I’m here, baby. I’ve got you.” I stay still, buried deep inside her, just feeling her pulse around me. “Go back to sleep.”
“What are you…” Her question trails off into a soft moan as I pull out halfway and push back in.
“Just. Need. To. Be. Inside. You,” I say, punctuating each word with a shallow thrust. I’m breathing hard, about to lose it.
So I pull out and kneel back, staring at her.
My Angel. Spread for me, her pussy so wet and perfect.
Her shirt hiked up above her tits. “I need to feel you, I need to know you’re okay. ”
Her hands wrap around my back, and she digs her nails in, grounding me. “I’m okay,” she whispers. “I’m right here.”
“I know. I just—” My voice cracks. “When I saw you on that floor, all that blood—”
“Hey.” She pulls me closer, so I’m flush against her body. “I’m fine. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
I bury my face in the crook of her neck, breathing her in as I slip back inside her. She lifts her hips to meet me, but I set the pace. In and out. Deep, hard thrusts, pumping into her until I can’t go deeper. Fucking slowly. Grounding myself in her.
“That’s it,” she murmurs, wrapping her legs around my waist, arching and grinding her clit. “Take what you need.”
“Shit,” I growl. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t.”
Something snaps inside me and I slip my hand beneath her ass cheek, holding her up while I pound her pussy, making sure her clit hits that spot she loves against my pubic bone.
I lose myself in her, in the feeling of my cock buried deep, of her warmth surrounding me, of her flesh in my palm, of her heart beating against mine.
“I’ll never lose you, Blake,” I breathe. “Never. Fucking. Lose. You.”
“Never,” she cries out.
“Love you,” I gasp against her skin. “Love you so fucking much.”
Her walls tighten around me, fluttering with her release.
“I love you too… Oh God, I’m so close.”
“Come for me, Angel. Me and only me.”
Her legs squeeze just as her pussy tightens like a vise. She gasps my name as she comes hard. The feeling of her pulsing around my cock sends me over the edge and I thrust deep, coming inside her with a groan.
I’m breathing hard. Actually fucking breathing. My chest is light, and all I see is her beautiful face, cheeks pink and mouth parted. She’s everything I’ve ever wanted, and I’m so goddamn lucky. I collapse against her carefully, still holding myself up with one hand, being mindful of her injury.
I kiss her soft lips as she breathes into me.
“Stay,” she whispers against my mouth as she threads her fingers through my hair. “Stay inside me.”
My cock already starts to thicken again. I know once won’t be enough… Not tonight.
“Always,” I promise.
We shift to our sides, and within minutes her breathing evens out again. Sleep pulling her under so peacefully.
I stay exactly where I am, fighting the urge to pump inside her again. Instead, I savor the connection. Revel in her heart beating against mine while I’m wrapped in her warmth.
I can’t wait for the morning. To spend Christmas together. To see the joy on her face when she opens her gifts. To hear her tease me for being so creepy, knowing she secretly loves that side of me.
I had nice Christmas’s once I moved into the Shea’s.
They always had gifts under the tree for me.
Always included me as one of their own. I may have been a teenager by the time I moved in with them permanently, but it was the first years of my life where I knew without a doubt that I’d have a gift under the tree.
Where I knew a nice home-cooked meal would be served.
Where I knew I didn’t have to see my mother nodding off while she cried about how sorry she was that Santa didn’t come.
But being with Blake, sharing the holidays with her, is unlike anything I knew I could experience. I still don’t think I deserve a second of her time, and yet, she loves me. Loves me enough to accept my flaws and show me what the holidays can be.
She’s the only gift I need and I’ll make sure she knows that tomorrow.