9. Gabriella
Gabriella
M y body quaked and goosebumps scattered over my flesh at Damien’s proclamation.
He’d allowed me to play my cards, giving me the illusion of control. As incredibly turned on as I was while exercising that fantasy, it was nothing compared to the rush of endorphins as Damien spread my knees and crawled between my legs. Goose bumps multiplied when he brought his lips to my stomach. A master at his task or a devil in disguise, Damien knew how to work my body, such as a musician caressing a fine instrument, twisting me tighter and tighter until my strings were taut and about to snap.
Lower down my body, his lips roamed, teasing and taunting.
“You’re soaked,” he murmured a millisecond before his tongue spread my folds and lapped my essence.
At the intrusion, I screamed out his name because no other came to mind. Even my brain knew that Damien was the only man who could bring me this kind of pleasure. My hips tried to buck from the bed, but I was held in place by his strong grasp.
Damien was a man starved as he devoured me, burying his face, spreading my legs farther apart, and teasing my bundle of nerves with his lips and teeth.
My body convulsed and perspiration coated my skin as he drained not one, not two, but three orgasms from me. After the third, Damien kissed his way up my slack body, lingering on my ultra-sensitive breasts before reaching my lips. His tongue danced with mine, sharing my taste as I’d shared his.
“Pick a number between five and ten.”
I opened my eyes wide to his blue stare. The man whose nose was touching mine and whose heated, hardened body was over my own demanded my attention. “A number?” In my defense, my mind was still mush and in recovery mode.
He kissed my nose. “Between five and ten.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know…seven.”
“That’s my greedy girl.” In a flash, he was gone.
When I lifted my head, Damien was pulling his wallet from his pants pocket. With a smirk, he held out four condoms. “Probably good you didn’t say ten.”
“I don’t…”
He threw the condoms on the bed and came closer. “You’ve already come twice. That means I have four condoms to get five more out of you.”
Oh my God.
“Cocky much?”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Was it two times?”
“Three,” I admitted softly.
Ripping the first packet, he laughed. “Confident. If the condoms run out, you can sit on my face.”
I wasn’t prepared to verbally spar like this. I’d forgotten how sexy and fun it could be—he could be.
Instead of giving him a comeback, I said, “I’m ready for sleep.”
His finger and thumb lifted my chin. “No, Ella, you can sleep tomorrow.”
“Four more times and I may not be able to move tomorrow.”
Still standing near the bed, he replied, “Good.”
I watched as he sheathed his large cock, jealous that he was holding it instead of me.
He looked back at me, his eyebrows arched. “Like what you see?”
“It’s okay.”
Damien offered me his hand. “I want you to remember tonight in each step you take tomorrow.”
Placing my hand in his, I grinned as I stood. “I don’t know if you’ve still got it in you.”
He led me toward the tall windows. Beyond the panes was the sprawl of Los Angeles from twenty-seven stories in the air. “Put your hands on the glass, Ella.” His lips blew warm breaths near my ear with each word.
My pulse quickened as I obeyed.
“Wider and lower.”
I moved my hands down and farther apart as he trailed a ghostly touch down my spine, causing it to arch.
“Good girl.” He held on to my waist. “Now lift your right foot, to the windowsill.”
The windowsill was easily two feet from the floor. As I contemplated, he pulled my hips and butt toward him. “Damien.”
“Lift your foot.”
A shiver ran through me as I obeyed.
Damien’s hard cock ran along my core, teasing my folds and moving to my tight ring of muscles.
I sucked in a deep breath.
“Is that hole still virgin?”
I hated that he knew me.
Smearing my essence, he kept moving his cock from front to back and back to front, not penetrating. With each pass, my nerves electrified, detonations sparking from my scalp to my toes. I was so tuned into his movements, I forgot to answer.
A slap of my ass cheek stung, pulling me back to our conversation.
“I asked you a question,” he growled.
“Yes. I haven’t…I don’t…”
He was doing that thing again, up and down, forward and backward. So close to where I wanted him and yet not there. I pushed back, wanting what he had. My nipples grew impossibly harder and my foot on the sill began to bounce when all at once, Damien filled my pussy from behind.
I cried out as my entire being imploded. Falling forward, my cheek and breasts collided with the cool window. In one thrust—one deep thrust—I was coming, my core spasming around his huge cock.
His strong arm snaked around my waist kept me from falling to the floor or maybe from the height of the window to the ground below. With his chest to my back, Damien picked me back up, thrust after thrust, sparking nerves that by all rights should be burnt out.
Higher and higher, he took me. The suite filled with the slapping of his body against mine. It wasn’t one-sided—I too was in the rhythm. His breathing labored as I once again found myself at the precipice. It was as his hand found my clit that we both jumped into the bliss.
His heart pounded against my back and his breaths were heavy in my ears. As our breathing slowed, Damien tugged my leg, lowering my foot to the ground and with us still connected, he spoke. The words rumbled from him to me.
“Were you imagining that all of Los Angeles could see us?”
I shook my head. “I was distracted.”
His fingers splayed on my stomach. “Look out there.”
I did, seeing the skyscape, the buildings, the lights, the cars moving on the streets far below.
“Lean your head back.”
I complied as his hand lowered.
“They can see how fucking gorgeous you are, Ella.” His fingers began a slow and steady rhythm circling my clit. “They want to see more. They want to see you come again. This is Los Angeles. Movie stars live here, and they’re all enthralled with what they’re watching.”
It was nearly impossible to concentrate on his words. Because as his fingers worked, his cock hardened within me. Small thrusts caused me to gasp.
“You don’t want to disappoint our audience.”
It was impossible for me to come again, and yet there I was… “Damien…”
He held me to his chest as the orgasm shuddered through me. Once it was done, he took a step back. I immediately felt the loss and emptiness. It was the familiar need to be close to him—the sensation I only truly existed when connected to Damien.
That realization, that thought, scared the shit out of me.
Spinning, I looked up at Damien as he wrapped his arms around my waist, holding me to him, his still-erect penis probing my stomach.
“I can’t do this.”
His lips quirked. “You’ve done it five times. Maybe you just need a moment to rest.”
I shook my head. “That’s not what I’m talking about.”
Lowering his head, he kissed my forehead. “You said one night. The night isn’t over.”
“I said one time and it’s been…” I swayed. “…six.” Swallowing the lump in my throat, I feigned a smile. “Thank you for your help at the elevator.” He’d said I wouldn’t lie, but what if that was the only way to save myself?
If it was, I had to do it.
“You could have taken care of them, just like you could take care of Mr. Phillips.”
“Walter Phillips is a flirt. Those guys were?—”
“They might have been intoxicated,” Damien said, “but they knew a beautiful woman when they saw one.” He ran his thumb over my cheek. “You’re more than they saw, Ella. Tonight, at the gala…damn, you’re spectacular to watch. You’re a star.”
“Like the ones watching us?”
“No, like the brilliant light that shines through galaxies. That’s who you are.”
“Damien, please don’t call me when we’re back home. I’ve worked hard to build a life—one that doesn’t include you.” I inhaled and took a step away, freeing myself from his embrace. Although my eyes stung, I kept my voice strong. “I won’t answer. Tonight was…” I couldn’t read his expression. “Tonight was our goodbye. No more of this…”
His expression fell. “Fuck, Ella.”
I lifted my hand. “It was a mistake. I’d forgotten the passion. But now I remember how completely overwhelming it is. I’m drawn to you and when that happens—when we’re together—I forget who I am. I can’t do that again.”
“Sex…fuck, we’re good together.”
I nodded. “We’re great together. It can’t happen again.”
Damien inhaled, his chest widening. “We could talk?”
I shook my head. Going to the closet, I pulled out the large white terrycloth robe with the hotel emblem. After freeing it from the hanger, I wrapped it around me and tied the sash. In the time it took me to do that, Damien had removed the condom, tied it off, and thrown it in the trash. Now, wearing his boxer shorts, he was stepping into his pants.
“Thank you,” I said.
“I don’t want to leave.”
“I know that. I also know you will.”
Damien’s shirt was on and unbuttoned. I wrapped my arms around my midsection as he gathered his things. He had his tie and cufflinks stuffed into his jacket pocket. Once he collected everything, Damien walked to me, stopping mere inches away. “You’re wrong, Ella. This wasn’t goodbye.”
“Please.”
“I told you that you wouldn’t be a one-night stand.”
“I’m not. You are.”
His lips pressed together in a straight line. And even in the dim lighting, I saw the way his jaw clenched and a vein in his neck pulsated. Nevertheless, Damien didn’t say another word as he nodded and exited the suite.
I stood in place for a full minute.
If I peer through the small peephole, will I see him?
Or is he gone?
Shaking my head, I bolted the door and turned away without looking. I managed to keep the tears at bay until I stepped under the hot spray of the shower and let them flow.
“Not again,” I said between gasps for air. “I can’t be with him again.”
When I woke the next morning, my head ached from crying. Beyond the unhindered windows, the sun shone, breaking through the morning smog. From my angle I saw the smudge on the window from the night before. Turning my head left and right, I recalled exactly how it was created. It was a work of art. But like all masterpieces, the enjoyment of the creation can only be imagined by the beholders. Only the artists themselves understand the immense passion.
After calling for room service, I took another shower.
It was odd the way our senses retained stimulations.
Aroma.
Even after two showers, lotion, and a dab of perfume, I swore I could still smell the erotic and intoxicating scent that was Damien Sinclair.