Sabrina #2
I laugh despite myself, but it fades as I secure the dressing around his arm. My hands are still trembling, and Damian notices. His teasing disappears, and he catches my wrist, bringing my palm to his mouth.
“I’m all right,” he says against my skin.
“You could’ve broken something. You could’ve been trampled.”
“But I wasn’t.”
“You didn’t even think before you did it. You could’ve gotten yourself killed.”
“I’d do it again.”
God, he actually means it.
I finish wrapping his arm and smooth the edge of the bandage into place. “There. Done.”
He kisses me on the lips this time. I brace one hand against his chest, intending to push him away, but the hard beat of his heart beneath my palm stops me.
His mouth softens. Our kiss deepens slowly, until every place we touch feels unbearably alive.
I pull away just far enough to breathe. “You need to rest.”
“I’ve rested enough.”
He stands, crowding me backward until my shoulders meet the wall. His mouth comes down on mine before I can argue. The kiss is stripped of patience, and he presses close, his muscular body pinning me to the wall.
When I hazily remind him about his shoulder, he tells me to stop fussing. When he shifts in a way that makes him flinch, I threaten to send him upstairs alone. His answer is to slide a hand beneath my shirt and close it around my breast.
My breath catches.
“You were saying?” he asks against my mouth.
“That you’re injured.”
His thumb drags over my nipple, making it tighten beneath his touch. “Doesn’t seem to be slowing me down.”
“You’re impossible.”
“And you’re still here.”
He kisses me again, swallowing my reply as his hand moves lower. His fingers slip beneath the waistband of my jeans, finding me already wet for him.
A low sound rumbles from his chest. “Christ, Sabrina.”
“Don’t sound so surprised.”
“I’m not surprised.” He slides a finger through my slickness. “I’m pleased.”
I bite his lower lip hard enough to make him curse.
His grin flashes against my mouth. “There she is.”
I reach between us and palm his cock through his jeans. He’s so hard that the contact makes his whole body tense.
“Still think I should rest?” he asks.
“I think you should stop talking.”
“Make me.” He catches my wrists and pins them above my head with his free hand. His other hand stays on my pussy, two fingers sliding inside me, making me gasp.
“That’s it,” he murmurs. “Let me feel you.”
I try to grind against his hand, but he keeps his touch maddeningly slow. Every time I chase more pressure, he eases away just enough to keep me aching.
“Goddamn it, Damian.”
“I know.”
“You don’t know anything.”
His mouth moves to my throat. “I know exactly what you want.”
I hate that he’s right.
He releases my wrists and turns me around. My palms land against the wall, and his body settles behind mine, his chest against my back and his cock pressing hard between my ass cheeks.
His hand slips beneath the front of my jeans again. He spreads me open with slow, deliberate passes, circling my clit until my hips begin moving against him.
“Impatient girl,” he says.
“Damian.”
“God, I love it when you say my name.”
His keeps rubbing my swollen clit until pleasure burns through me so intensely that my forehead drops against the wall.
“Come for me.”
The command breaks something open inside me. My clit is soaked against his fingers, and release crashes through me, so hard that I cry out his name.
Breathless, I try to turn to face him, but he catches my hips before I can do anything.
“We’re not done.”
The sound of his belt opening makes my pussy throb. He pushes my jeans and underwear down over my hips. I let out a needy moan, then gasp when I feel the thick head of his cock drag through my wet pussy.
He groans behind me as he slides himself against me, coating his cock in my cream without entering me. The slow friction is torture, every pass catching my swollen clit and making me ache for more.
“Jesus, Damian.”
“What?”
“You know what.”
“I want to hear you say it.”
I push my hips backward, trying to force him inside. He catches my waist and holds me still.
“Ask.”
“You’re an asshole.”
“You knew that already.”
“Fuck me.”
His breath breaks. “Again. Use my name.”
I turn my head and glare at him. “Fuck me, Damian.”
He pushes inside me. The fullness steals my breath. He fills me inch by inch, and I feel every bit of him as my pussy squeezes tight around him. He stops when he’s buried deep, his hips pressed firmly against my ass.
“You good?” he asks, his voice rough.
I barely have the breath to speak. “Uh huh.”
The first few strokes are slow, but that restraint doesn’t last. I push back to meet him, and something in Damian snaps. His grip tightens, and he begins fucking me faster, driving his cock deep.
Every thrust pulls a high sound from me. His mouth moves over my neck and shoulder, kissing, biting, dragging his stubble over my skin.
“Too much?” he asks.
“No. Give me more.”
“Greedy girl.”
“You’re the one who wouldn’t stop teasing me.”
He thrusts harder. “You complaining?”
I moan instead of answering.
“That’s what I thought.”
His hand slides around my curves and finds my clit again. The added pressure sends pleasure surging through me, tightening faster with every deep stroke of his cock.
I try to warn him, but the words come apart when he angles his hips and hits a spot inside me that makes my entire body jerk.
“There,” I gasp.
“I know.”
“Don’t stop. Don’t stop.”
The pleasure builds until I can’t breathe around it, until the only thing holding me up is the strength of his body behind mine.
“I’ve got you,” he says against my ear. “I’m going to take care of you, beautiful.”
His words send me over the edge.
My pussy grips around his cock as I come, pleasure tearing through me so violently that my knees buckle. Damian catches me against his chest and keeps thrusting, dragging out every pulse. Then his rhythm turns rough and uneven. His control lasts only seconds longer.
“Fuck, Sabrina,” he rasps.
He drives into me one final time and holds himself deep, his forehead dropping against my shoulder as he comes. He groans my name again, and then again, and I feel it all over, like he’s claimed every last inch of me.