But all that does is make my thighs tingle in anticipation.
Is this it?
Is this the moment we …
What? a vicious voice hisses. What do you think you’ll be able to do for a man like Damian? Who do you think you are?
I try to fight that thought away, but the truth of it slams into me.
My inexperience hangs over me like a scythe waiting to drop and ruin the potential intimacy of the moment.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Damian
I carry the logs up the stairs, my heart banging heavily in my chest, the beast inside of me trying to break out harder and fiercer with each moment.
The way she looked as she stood there before the fireplace, her clothes clinging tightly to her curves, her eyes wide with anticipation, did something to me.
And now I’m a fucking werewolf with the moon up, unable to fight this beastliness inside of me, not wanting to fight it.
I poke my head out of the back door in the kitchen.
“Sparky?” I call, just to be safe.
He emerges from the forest, a big grin on his face, head tilted at me. “It’s okay, boy,” I tell him. “Good boy.”
Happy with the freedom, he darts back into the forest, running circles around a tree, tail wagging frantically. I double-check that the dog door can swing back and forth, and then carry the logs into the living room.
I have to focus on getting the fire started by purposefully not looking at Dakota. Otherwise, I’ll just leap on her right here, the way she sits with those big beautiful legs tucked beneath her ass, leaning sideways, a pose of casual sexiness that drives straight to the base of my rock hard manhood.
I stoke the fire and then step back, letting the flames lick and spit and whirl to life.
Then I turn to Dakota and stare down at her, my manhood downright throbbing now.
“Stand up,” I tell her firmly.
She rises to her feet, head cocked sassily, biting her lip for a moment.
That causes lava to surge up my length, her cheeks pricking red, everything about her screaming at me to fuck her, to claim her, to own her.
“I’ve been trying to fight this,” I snarl, moving closer to her until her face is almost pressed right up against my chest.
I stare down at her, leaning in, closer.
Closer.
“But I can’t. I don’t care if I should take it slow. As fucked up as it sounds, I don’t care if you’ve been through a lot. I don’t care if I’m taking advantage or any of that shit. Because if I go one more second without tasting those lips, I’ll go completely fucking crazy.”
She gasps when I grip her hips and slide my hands around to her lower back, shoving her tight up against me, so that there’s as little room between us as possible.
I lean down and bring my lips to hers with crushing force. She gasps again, this time muffled as our lips fuse together.
She tastes like home, that’s the only damn thing I can think, sweet and just-her, a taste that swirls welcomingly around my mouth.
She moans and wriggles against me, causing my hot hard cock to give another flare of need.
I slide my hands down, squeezing those ample ass cheeks, indulging in her curvaceous flesh as I press them together, burying my hands in her oh-so-tempting flesh.
Our tongues battle and then I kiss her cheek, getting closer to her ear, painting her in hot breaths and kisses.
“I need to taste your sweet pussy,” I growl in her ear. “It’s all I can think about. I need to see if you taste as good as you smell. Lie on your back for me, Dakota. Let me eat that fucking cunt.”
She gasps, squeezing onto my shoulders.
“This is crazy. Oh my God.”
“Is that a no?”
“Hell no,” she whimpers.
I smirk like the savage animal I am and take her shoulders in my hands, lightly pushing her back onto the armchair. Then I fall to my knees and grab her skirt and her tights and her panties.
I grab it all in bunches in my hands—and then I yank, hard, hungry to expose her bare bite-me flesh.
A feral song roars inside of me as I reveal inch upon inch of her flesh, some of it dappled red where it’s gone from the cold of outside to the heat of the fire. Or maybe it’s her lust. I don’t know … Whatever it is, I can’t resist bringing my mouth to the red dappled spots of her thick thighs and biting and kissing softly, tasting her tangy gorgeous sweat.
“Fuck, you’re delicious,” I snarl.
“R-really?” she whimpers.
I lean back and stare at her, her knees trapped together with her tangled clothes.
My cock pulses.
Her pussy is framed by the shape of her legs, pushed together as if its precious pinkness is hiding from me. Her lips look slightly swollen in their neediness, her hole peeled open just a little, enough to make me salivate as I grab her clothes and pull them the rest of the way, leaving her thighs bare, her pussy completely mine now.
Mine always.
I grab her thighs and move her so that they’re draped over my shoulders, shifting close so that my face is a bare inch from her pussy. Her scent deafens me, becoming my world, as I lean closer and stroke my tongue up one of her lips, hyper-aware of the way it makes her shiver against me.
“You like that,” I growl.
“Y-yes,” she moans. “Oh God, it’s … your tongue is on fire, Damian.”
“You do that to me,” I snarl, and then I can’t talk anymore.
Reaching up to wrap my hands around her thighs, I pull her so that her beautiful tangy cunt is pressed right up against my face.
And then I feast.
I don’t have the ability to tease her and play with her when she’s this close to me. Instead, I gorge on her sweet slit, opening my mouth so that my upper lip is pressed against her clit and my lower lip is against her hole, darting my tongue all over the tapestry of her so that I can taste as much of her as possible.
I slide my hands down, gripping her ass cheeks. The angle is awkward, but it’s worth it to squeeze onto those round fleshy treats as I growl and moan and feast.
She twitches her hips against me, wriggling from side to side the quicker I lick, nibble, own.
“Drench my fucking mouth,” I snarl. “I need to taste you, all of you. Do you understand me, you curvy beautiful sex goddess?”
“Y-y-yes,” she moans, barely pushing the word out.
I slide my tongue down, driving it into her soaked slit and grinding my upper lip against her clit at the same time, gulping and swallowing and taking as many of her pre-orgasmic juices as I can.
She gasps and her hips start to buck and writhe like she’s trying to squirm away from the vise grip of my desire.
But I squeeze onto her tighter, feeling every reverberation of her pleasure in the way her ass cheeks shake delectably for me, so meaty I feel my seed roaring and surging inside of me, hungry to explode up my starving shaft.
“Oh—my—fuck—fuck …”
I greedily lap at her cunt as the orgasm claims her.
She writhes against my face, her pussy sliding up and down my tongue, her lips, and then I swallow and gulp and taste as much of her squirting juices as I can, letting them fill my mouth as she gushes out her pleasure juices.
There’s even more than I anticipated and I almost howl—I would howl if it didn’t mean taking my mouth away from the fountain of her dirty glorious fucking orgasm.
Her moans dance in the air, just as sweet sounding as her singing earlier in the day, her pussy getting hotter than fire against my tongue as the last of her orgasm thunders out of her.
“Jesus,” she whispers. “That was crazy.”
“You’re so goddamn hot, Dakota,” I growl, leaning back and reaching for my belt, hungry to free my insistent manhood and bring the tip to her pink wet hole.
“I need you,” I go on in a feral shiver. “I need to feel how tight and horny you are. I need to feel your … Dakota, what’s wrong?”
/> She’s looking at me with shivering lips, eyes wide, as though she’s on the verge of crying.
I let my hands drop from my belt.
“What is it?”
“I … I want to,” she says, sitting up, squeezing onto her thighs in a sign of anxiety.
I have to tell myself that.
It’s a sign of anxiety.
Because the way her fingers sink into the luscious meatiness of those thighs has me fucked up in a hundred ways.
“But I don’t … I don’t think I can …”
“I’ll never force you to do anything,” I tell her firmly. “You can talk to me. What is it?”
“It’s—Can I get dressed?”
“Of course,” I say, even as a savage part of me roars that the answer is no, no fucking way.
I beat down that aspect of me and stand up, forcibly turning to face the window because otherwise pouncing on her again will be impossible to resist. After half a minute of me staring at the snow-laden forest, she clears her throat.
“I’m sorry,” she says.
I turn, shaking my head. “Dakota, you have nothing to be sorry about.”
“But you were so ready to go and I just spoiled the moment.”
“Just tell me,” I say. “Whatever it is, we can—
“I’m a virgin, Damian,” she snaps.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Dakota
I turn toward the fire, letting its heat kiss at my face. Maybe if I start crying – which I very much don’t want to do – the flames will dry my tears before Damian notices.
It’s so silly, the way this revelation can bring me near to tears when everything that happened in Dobry’s estate left me dry-eyed and empty inside.
But that’s the thing. Damian leaves me anything but empty. It’s not even the after-shocks of the orgasm tingling through my body, the best orgasm I’ve ever had in my life, his mouth pressed against me, consuming me, claiming me.
It’s everything else—the closeness, the budding emotion.
He told me my singing voice was beautiful.
Nobody’s ever said that before.
“I know, it’s sad,” I go on, conscious that he hasn’t said anything. I can feel his gaze on me. “I’m nineteen years old and … Well, what do you want me to say? It’s not like I was ever sought after in high school. I was invisible, spending most of my time in the library. Or I’d find a quiet place in the fields, a little corner, and sing softly to myself. But never loud. I didn’t want anybody else to hear. Do you see, Damian? I was a freak in high school.”
He walks slowly behind me and brings his hands to my shoulders.
I imagine him spinning me around and sneering in my face, laughing huskily and telling me I’m pathetic, telling me to get out of his sight.
I led him on, he says in this twisted waking nightmare, and now I have to brave the cold and the Bratva on my own.
“Music saved you,” he murmurs.
“Well—yes,” I say. “I guess it did. That’s not what I expected you to say.”
“What did you expect me to say?” he says, a growl thrumming beneath his words.
“Something along the lines of ‘Get the fuck out of here, you freak,’ I guess.”
“Are you joking?” he snarls, spinning me around in a quick motion, and then moving his hands to my face to guide my gaze to his. His eyes flicker intensely. “Jesus, Dakota. Do you think this changes how I see you?”
“It makes things more complicated,” I rage, brushing his hands away and striding over to the window.
I stare out at Sparky, who’s diving over and over into a big mound of snow, emerging on the other side with a wide grin.
An insane note of jealousy touches me as I watch him.
Life is so much easier for a dog, happiness always right there, ready for the taking, without any of the attendant anxiety and second-guessing we humans are forced to endure.
“How?” Damian snarls, staying in his place by the fire, his voice flaring over to me.
“Um, because now it means I’m not this crazy sex goddess, you know? You called me that. A sex goddess. But I’m not. What we just did … that was the first orgasm I’ve ever had that wasn’t—”
I bite down, shame pricking at me.
“That you didn’t give yourself,” he finishes for me.
“Yeah,” I say, a strangled quality to my voice. “Exactly.”
“I heard,” he snarls, stalking across the room.
He loops his arms around my body and squeezes me close to him, his rock solid manhood driving through his pants against my ass cheeks, stroking through the thin fabric of my skirt and panties.
“Do you have any idea how sexy you sounded?” he says, mouth close to my ear, breath whispering hotly. “Moaning and singing in your lust. Goddamn, it almost made me explode. Do you really think I give a damn if you’re a virgin? Actually, you’re right. I do care.”
“You do?” I whisper, heart thudding like it’s trying to shatter me open.
I knew it.
“Yes,” he snarls, spinning me toward him again. He stares down at me, jaw tight, his pale eyes pinning me in place. A light smirk touches his lips. “It makes me want you more. To think … I get to be the first one to feel how hot and wet your pussy is. I get to be the first one to feel it go all tight and needy around my cock as you come for me, as you come over and over and over …”
“But that’s the point,” I whisper, anxiety battling with desire, a silent invisible war within me. “What if I can’t do any of that? What if I disappoint you?”
“You won’t,” he snaps fiercely. “All you have to do is be naked, Dakota. Just be naked and I’ll be the most feral bastard you’ve ever seen.”
“Well, you already are that,” I giggle, somehow finding the laughter. It feels good to let a little of the heartache go. “But do you mean it, really? I thought you’d be …”
“What?” he laughs deeply, the sound – the feel – the everything of it bolstering me. “Disgusted?”
“Yeah,” I admit.
He brings his face close to mine, holding it there for a moment, our noses touching, tickling.
“There is nothing in this world that could make me feel disgusted with you, Dakota,” he snarls.
He kisses me hard, the passion tingling my lips and moving over my cheeks. I wrap my arms around him as though we’ve done this a hundred times before, as though we were fated to kiss a long time ago.
Don’t get ahead of yourself, a voice warns sternly. He might not be put off by you being a virgin, but if he knew how crazy your thoughts were getting, he’d be gone. Remember that.
I push the voice away and focus on the welcome roughness of his lips, opening my mouth and finding his tongue, hungrily seeking out the just-Damian taste of him.
My sex gets wet and tingling again, but then I forcibly stop the kiss, having to make a giant effort as my womb screams at me to keep going, to take him, all of him, every last drop of his seed he has to offer.
“I … uh … I don’t think I’m ready tonight,” I say quietly. “It’s all so crazy. I want to—I really want to, but …”
“There’s no rush,” he murmurs, kissing my forehead softly and then taking a giant step back.
“Okay, dramatic,” I giggle.
He smirks. “Standing near you turns me to dynamite, Dakota,” he snarls. “It’s only a matter of time before I explode. I’m going to have to be very goddamn careful not to lose control with you until you’re ready because once I start on that body of yours, I won’t be able to stop.”
“Is there anything I can do?” I murmur, glancing at the outline of his throbbing huge manhood in his pants. “To … help?”
He opens his mouth – his whole body trembling – but then Sparky comes running into the room, leaping up at Damian’s legs and then running in a quick circle, all excitement and bubbling joy.
Damian laughs grimly.
“I think he needs feeding,” he says. “It must
be a sign.”
“A sign?” I ask.
He looks squarely at me.
“Yes,” he fires. “A sign that I need to save every last drop of my seed for your tight needy pussy. Because then …”
He trails off, a strange look coming into his eyes.
“Then what, Damian?” I urge.
He swallows and stalks forward, reaching across and taking my hand in his.
“Because then I’ll be able to put a child in that belly of yours.”
I gasp.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Damian
I feel the tremor move through her hand, her grip tightening on mine. Her lips tremble and her eyes flit here and there, as though searching for an escape.
Something drops in my belly and a savage voice growls at me that I shouldn’t have just blurted it out like that.
But she was honest with me about her virginity, so there’s no way I’m going to lie to her about my intentions.
I take a step forward and press her up against the glass of the window, leaning down so that I’m staring directly into her eyes, her body taut and tight against mine, filled with tension that makes her chest rise and fall quickly.
I slide my hands down to those mind-fucking hips and squeeze.
“These are what drive me, Dakota,” I snarl, letting the beast come out to play now.
I can’t stop myself, not with her big juicy hips in my hands.
I’ve got her right where I want her.
“These goddamn hips … they’re made for grabbing while I fuck you raw, while I fuck you with nothing between us but flesh and heat and skin and pleasure. You’re living in a dreamland if you think I’ll wear a condom with you because all I need is to bury my naked cock balls deep into that tight pink hole and shoot my seed into your body … I need to shoot my seed into your womb.”
Stop it, the voice cries. This is too much, too fast.
But I’ve sunk too deep into the madness of this moment now and I can’t stop. I don’t want to stop. I need to put it all out there and let the fiery chips fall where they may, burn what they want.
“The first time I saw you, I knew you were going to be the mother of my children. I know how that fucking sounds. Maybe you think I’m a madman, ranting. But it’s the truth. I can’t explain it. It’s the way you smell. It’s the look in your eyes. It’s the song in your voice. All the little things that make you, you. The second I set eyes on you, I drank you in, every greedy drop of you … and I knew you were going to take every drop of me just as greedily. You belong to me.”
Her Hitman: An Instalove Possessive Older Man Younger Woman Romance Page 6