by L. J. Woods
My feet are off the ground and I let out a squeal before my back hits the soft silk sheets on the king-sized mattress. I remember this feeling. And I know what comes next. Laying there, I watch as Damien takes a couple of steps away, eyeing me with that hungry look. That primal gaze.
“Take it off,” he growls. Demands. And it’s like lightning firing through me.
But still, I tease. “Thought you’d want to do the honours.”
“Do as I say.” His voice is as sexy as his face when he speaks, biting his lip when he finishes his words. When I start shimmying off my skirt, he lets out a deeper grunt, his hand on his shaft through his pants. “Slow.”
It’s easy to follow his direction with his gaze on me like that. Like I’m the hottest thing he’s ever laid eyes on. I’ve always thought my body to be nothing special. Average rack. Average, square, boyish figure. My legs look long and awkward but when he grabs his cock as I unbutton my shirt, it looks like he’s not thinking about any of that.
As if to confirm my thoughts, he says, “Fuck. You’re fucking beautiful.” Then he growls, “I’m going to devour you. Then, I’m gonna fuck you like you did kill my dad.”
His crude words don’t spoil the moment and before I can say anything, he’s pulling off his shirt. It reveals that hard, muscular body to me again. One I crave. One I haven’t been able to stop thinking about since I met him. He’s coming closer, like a predator who’s cornered their prey. He stops by the bed, stroking his cock as he pulls a condom from the black dresser drawer across from us.
“Play with yourself,” he orders. “I wanna see you spread for me.” Watching him roll the latex over his thick, long cock makes his request all the easier and I move my fingers slow like I’m putting on a show. It feels good when he directs me, like it’s his fingers and I let out a moan before he growls, “Fuck, that’s hot.” There’s sweat on his brow, his cheeks reddening even more when he demands, “One finger. And keep those pretty eyes on me.”
I do, staring at him with a fuck-me smile and he lets out a long, “Fuuuck.” In an instant, he’s dropping to his knees at the edge of the bed, pulling me towards him with one hard tug. There’s no hesitation when his tongue slips between my folds, right on my slick clit. His saliva mixes with my juices and god, it feels like home, comforting and satisfying as my legs wrap around his head.
Holding him there, my body bucks against his face while his hands grab the soft skin of my ass. The hungry lashes of his tongue feel like flames on my insides, abs and thighs contracting when he pushes his tongue inside me. Riding Damien King’s face is intense ecstasy. A trip that I never want to get off.
When he’s had enough, he climbs on top of me, pulling my face to his so I can taste myself on his tongue. It’s easy when he pushes his shaft inside me, already wet by his touch and his mouth and I let out a long, loud, “God … yes!” It’s like relief. Like full spiritual healing when he bottoms out deep within. He starts slow but the minute my nails dig into the skin on his back, he turns into a raging machine. His cock pulses inside me, hitting my walls with every thrust and it’s like he wants to feel every bit of me. And I want the same. Every inch. Every vein.
“Fuck, Jo.” Damien’s lips land on my neck. His hand wraps around my wrists, keeping my arms above my head. He’s so deliciously dominant. It’s like he wants every part of me for himself with the way he drills into me. He’s a miner digging for gold, and the way the bed thuds against the wall with each hard push, he’ll find it.
I’m enveloped in his smell, the scent of our sex adding to my inebriation. I’m deep in his hold and I don’t want to let go. “I’m stupid for giving this up,” he groans, pulling a leg against his chest, throwing it over his shoulder. It helps him fuck me deeper. Harder. My nails sink into my skin, his force making me want to grip anything, my tits bouncing with every push. Every thrust. “So fucking stupid for letting you go.”
I can hardly respond, my body in blissful shock. “Wh-what?”
“Suck.” He sticks a finger in my mouth, his hips working in overdrive, pushing harder. Deeper. Faster.
Fuuck.
I’m squirming under him, my eyes forcing closed when the room starts to blur. His grunts mix with the sound of our skin slapping together and when he says, “Look at me, Jo,” I meet that sexy gaze in his eyes and it makes me explode. All over his cock.
“Fuck!” I cry before my teeth sink into his shoulder and it only riles him up more, fucking me harder like if he stops, so will this moment. I’m seeing flutters. Fireflies and fireworks as my body contorts under his thrust like it’s a goddamn exorcism and I’m possessed by his cock. My orgasm rides like a wave into another until Damien’s coming too, his groan in my ear.
God, I missed this.
I missed him.
He finishes as I’m coming down from orgasm number two. Then … we lay there, his body by my side while we catch our breaths.
The room gets quiet, the only sound left from our moans, thuds, and cries is our breathing as the dust starts to settle. My heartbeat still races when I fear the moment’s over. I’m starting to feel like I’ve given into something I shouldn’t have. Total sex guilt. Like a fiend.
That’s before his arm comes around me, pulling me onto his chest. “Don’t move,” he says, his long arms tightening on my waist.
So I don’t. Not that I want to.
Listening to his heartbeat, I’m feeling the best I’ve felt in a long while.
And it’s all because of Damien.
* * *
He’s still there when the sunlight breaks through the half-opened curtain.
Still has his arms around me, his heart beating against my back.
The clock on the nightstand reads seven o’clock, my thighs and ass sore from the rest of our night.
I didn’t expect last night to happen. I know when Damien and I get together there’s a blazing fire that’s hard to put out. But, last night was eye-opening. And leg opening but I have no regrets.
At least for now.
A cloud moves along, the sun shining brighter into the room and that makes me realize I’ve got an achy head. Nerves bubble inside me as warmth engulfs me, Damien’s arms tight around me like I’m his discovered treasure.
Did he mean for that to happen? Or was this an emotional fling? Preparing myself for disaster, I try to lift his arm from where it lays, across my tits. But when I do, it’s like he’s got a lock on me. He growls, “Where do you think you’re going?”
His voice is a croak, a sexy little morning rasp and god, I wish I hadn’t heard it. “We should get going. Willow’s going to be wondering where I went off to again.”
Leaning back to look at him I catch him opening an eye, his blue one. It catches the sun and it’s the brightest blue I’ve ever seen on him. Like a sparkling, inviting ocean. “You have time. Just …” His grip tightens. “A little longer.” The way he’s holding me like I’m his makes me want to do just that. Stay here. Forever.
But I don’t want to give him the wrong message. I don’t want to give myself the wrong message. “But—”
“Don’t overthink it, Rowland.”
Damn, he already knows me enough to say that. With a small smile, I settle into his hold again. How can someone so cold be so warm and inviting at the same damn time? It’s a contrast to that hard exterior. A side reserved for me.
When he kisses my neck, his fingers trail up my naked stomach to the tip of my nipple and I’m already thinking of our last night’s romp.
“You want a morning with the King?” There’s something hard growing against my ass and when he climbs on top of me, that mischievous grin on his face, I know he’s thinking about it too. “Sometimes, I like to work out. Coach says it helps to keep my head in the game. Want to work out with me?” So that’s how he keeps that body so fit. “And by working out I mean burying my cock deep inside that sweet hole.”
My arms wrap around him, shutting up his crass words before I fall into his lips again. We
’re going for what … round six at this point? And I can’t get enough. It’s like we bottle up all our tension until we’re together, then we unleash it on each other. The result?
Fireworks.
Heavenly clouds.
Hell’s flames.
I’m in bliss, closing my eyes when he enters me again but he stops mid-thrust to regain that dominance he loves to thwart. “Eyes on me, Jo.” And they’re so sickeningly beautiful it’s easy to get lost in them as I ride that wave to another hard, rolling climax.
DING-DONG!
As I’m coming back to earth, the doorbell slows Damien out of his pace, smirk fading, eyes narrowing.
DING-DONG!
“Shit,” he mutters. When he pulls out, I’m quick to reach for some clothes, that morning rushing back to my head. While I know I didn’t kill Sebastien now, it still leaves a sick feeling in my stomach. A hard, tightness in my chest.
“Stay—” He pauses and I’m grateful he didn’t say the words he uttered last time. His pants are on when he goes to the window, looking out into the driveway. “The fuck? Perez?”
“Christian?”
DING-DONG! DING-DONG!
So much for a peaceful morning.
Pulling on Damien’s sweater, I make my way to the door, ignoring my surroundings until Christian’s face greets me.
“Morning!”
Christian’s at the door in his hockey jersey, a big brown bag in his hand that he’s hoisted to his face. He sounds like Mr. fucking Rogers and looks like him too, all fresh and ready for the day in a crisp ERA uniform. Blazer and all. His hair looks slick like he’s fresh out of the shower.
“Are you stalking me?” There’s no way I was sending Damien to the door after finding out who was standing there. There’s been enough blood spilled in this house.
“What? No,” he snorts, walking by me into the foyer like I’ve let him in, a waft of his cologne moving with him. “Thought I’d bring you some provisions after a night of hanging with Johnny Ramone.” He reaches into the bag, pulling out plastic containers before laying them out on the island. At least he’s making this place feel a little more normal. A little less tainted.
“What the fuck are you doing here, Perez?” It was only a matter of time before Damien came down here. I told him to give us a minute and that’s exactly what he gave. One minute. But he doesn’t sound mad. Doesn’t sound aggravated. Just tired. And I can’t help but think that I’m the one who calmed the beast and tired him out. With my vagina.
“Like you didn’t hear me the first time,” Christian responds, settling into one of the stools in front of the island. “I come in peace. If I’m going to lose the hottest chick in town to a guy from ERA, at least it’s you.”
Christian pops open a container, revealing pancakes, eggs, and hashbrowns and I’m happy to hear he’s not holding a grudge, but my appetite is gone again. You’d think after all our “working out” I’d be ready to indulge, but sitting so close to where someone died isn’t that appetite-inducing.
“At least you didn’t come empty-handed,” Damien leans against the wall, arms crossed, chest bare. He watches as I push the plate away, immediately chiming in, “You’re not eating that?”
“No, do you want it?”
“You gotta eat.” They both say this at the same time and I look between them.
“You guys teaming up on me now?”
“Eat it, Rowland,” Damien glares at Christian before he returns his focus to me. “You’re withering away.”
“Please?” Christian finishes. “We don’t want you dying on us.”
They’re like “good cop - bad cop” and it kind of reminds me of those detectives. Or my mom and dad telling me to finish my carrots. The foster homes I was in before didn’t give a shit whether I had breakfast or dinner, so it’s a strange feeling to have Damien telling me to eat for my own good.
Damien reaches for the drawer next to him, pulling out a fork and sliding it across the island to me. “After last night, you’ll need your energy.” He comes closer, his elbows on the island, staring into my eyes and it makes my heart patter. “Now, eat that like I ate your—”
“Dude,” Christian pipes in. “I know I said I was cool but that doesn’t mean I wanna know.” He scrunches his mouth, shuddering. “Too late. Now all I can imagine is your dick swinging ‘round and ‘round …”
“Don’t make me feed it to you, Jo.” Damien ignores his friend as Christian tosses him a bottle of OJ. He catches it like they’re playing a casual game of football. “I know how much you like that.”
“Guys. C’mon,” Christian pipes in again.
“What about you?” I ask, my gaze on Damien. “Aren’t you going to eat?”
And of course, he changes the subject, turning to Christian. “Did you know Isaac’s fucking my aunt?”
A slice of bacon hangs off Christian’s lip, “What?” He pulls it out with a bite and I know he’s trying to hide his laugh when a smirk creeps across his face. He glances at both of us and that’s when a chuckle escapes, “Wait, for real?”
“I dunno what you’re finding so funny.” Damien takes a small sip of his juice, glaring at Christian over the top of the bottle. I’m already sliding him another container of food. When it flips open, he arches an eyebrow my way, but he knows what I’m suggesting.
“You eat,” I say. If I have to eat, he has to too. He meets my gaze, and we’re locked in a moment, that hungry look coming over him again. My thighs ache but I’m so ready for more, lost in that iron stare.
“Cute,” he says. “But we both know you can’t tell me what to do unless it’s to go harder.” My hair stands on edge when he says that and he doesn’t care if Christian hears it. But his friend is already lost in thought.
“Shit. Your aunt and Isaac?” Christian looks like he’s thinking about it again before he shakes his head. “Well, Marion is kinda—”
“Say it, Perez,” Damien warns. “I dare you.”
I snort and that makes Christian smile. Damien flips the lid closed, getting up from his seat. “I’m gonna take a shower. Can you make sure she eats?” Shit, now I’m imagining Damien in the shower and if Christian wasn’t here I’d race him up there.
“Fuck that.” My arms come across my chest. “If you’re not eating, I’m not eating.”
“It wasn’t a suggestion, Medusa,” Damien says from the bottom of the stairs. He looks over his shoulder. “Besides, we all know what I prefer to eat.
I catch Christian rolling his eyes as Damien heads towards the stairs.
DING-DONG!
Both our heads whip to the door, Damien stopping his climb to the second floor.
“That better not be Isaac,” he mutters, turning around.
With my head twisted in his direction, I watch him open the door, only to see those same detectives behind it. They’re dressed a little more casual than the last time I saw them, from what I can see anyway. Sunglasses on Branson’s face.
Damien’s body stiffens but he plays it off, leaning against the side of the door. “Gentlemen,” he says. “There better be a warrant in your hands.”
Branson tries to peek in but Damien moves in front of him, his height and broad build doing him a huge favour. “Is Joelle Rowland with you?”
Christian stops mid-reach for another slice of bacon, his brows knitting and I’m hoping my face isn’t as pale as it feels. Damien lowers his voice, muttering something to them as my heartbeat quickens. They nod and he reaches for a jacket off a nearby hook before all three of them step outside. The door closes behind them.
“What’s that about?” Christian asks.
Shrugging, it’s hard to take my attention away from the door.
What are they saying? What’s Damien saying?
“So, again, he’s serious? About Isaac?” I’m relieved Christian’s changing the subject. A distraction is exactly what I need right now.
“Yep,” I nod, popping the ‘p’ while I grab a bottle of juice from the bag
. Juice is something my stomach can handle and after last night, I’m parched. “Saw him leave after the party.”
“What’s he gonna do?”
“He’s not too keen on talking to ‘em. Looked at me like I was an idiot, so,” I pause to take a sip, glancing towards the door. “I have no idea what he’s gonna do.”
Christian sighs, picking up another slice of bacon as he swivels back and forth on the stool. He tilts that square chin to the ceiling. “If I know Damien, he’s plotting something. And it’s not gonna be pretty.”
* * *
The three of us arrive at the Academy right on time, Christian pulling into the lot behind Damien’s Lambo.
I never thought I’d say this, but I’m grateful I have the two of ‘em. Especially now.
The officers left after speaking to Damien on the lakehouse porch. After Damien confessed he was fucking with me, it’s likely I won’t have to worry, but he doesn’t confirm it. I’m relieved the officers didn’t question me but Damien hasn’t said anything about it all morning. When I ask, he kisses me. Deep and long and it’s enough to make me forget. It always is.
While he parks, I shoot a text to Willow, checking in. She’s quick to respond, already with her crew somewhere inside.
“Meet me here after school,” Damien says, looking at me through his sunglasses over the console. His white shirt is only buttoned half-way as he reaches for his jacket in the back. That means pulling my eyes away from his chest is like hauling a kid away from a playground. Damn near impossible. “There’s something I want to show you.”
I’m hoping he means he has an explanation for the detectives. “Are you asking me out like a normal person?”