by L. A. Casey
I snorted. “You think so, huh?”
“I know so.”
With a grin, I turned back to Barbara to see what she was doing, and I gasped.
“Damien!” I gave his waist a squeeze. “Look.”
I pointed at Barbara’s litter tray, the one she was currently using.
“Good girl,” Damien said, and without looking up at him, I knew he was smiling.
“I think we just imparted wisdom.”
Damien snorted, then when Barbara was finished, he put her back into her crate. I felt bad about putting her in there, but Damien said that Alec said that kittens don’t like large spaces that are new to them, so putting her in her crate would relax her and help her adjust. I hoped to God he was right because it broke my heart to look at her through the little barred door like she was a prisoner.
“Could you not hear her in your room earlier?”
I shook my head at Damien’s question.
He huffed as he straightened to his full height of hu-fucking-mongous.
“I heard her in the spare room,” he said. “There is nothing wrong with her lungs, I can tell you that much.”
I reached for his hand. “Maybe you should come and sleep in me room with me then?”
His eyes snapped to mine, his surprise plain as day if his open-mouthed expression was anything to go by.
“We won’t get in trouble,” I assured him, seeing the question in his eyes. “We’ll just sleep.”
Damien looked pained, but when I tugged on his hand, he offered no resistance and walked out of the kitchen with me, flipping the light off as we went. I smiled to myself. I felt in control of something for the first time in a very long time, and it felt good. I wasn’t scared to sleep in the same bed as Damien. I was excited.
“Do you always wear so much to bed?”
“Yeah,” I answered. “I get cold easily.”
My room was pitch black when we entered, and I knew where my bed was, but Damien didn’t, and he walked directly into the base.
“Fuck a duck!”
I laughed as I climbed up onto the bed, pushing back the blanket.
“Think that’s funny, do you?”
I screeched when the bed dipped and an arm hooked itself around me, while another hand ran up and down my side, tickling me without mercy. I screamed, laughed, and begged Damien to stop, but he didn’t. He vibrated with laughter, and only stopped when I fell onto my back, and he found himself leaning over me with his hand now on my bare waist since my t-shirt rode up during the tickle assault. We both went quiet then. We couldn’t see each other because the room was coated in darkness, but I was hyper aware of him.
“You smell good.”
I licked my lips. “I do?”
“You do.”
I could hear my heart beating.
“Damien, we can’t get into trouble.”
“No trouble,” he murmured. “I just want to touch you. Can I touch you, please?”
The urge to beg him to do just that was overwhelming.
“But … but …”
“Yes, I want to touch your butt, too.”
I shoved him, and he lightly chuckled.
“Relax,” he whispered, lowering his face enough for me to feel his hot breath on my skin. “Let me make you feel good, baby.”
Baby.
I loved hearing him call me pet names, but that aside, I was apprehensive.
“I don’t think this is a good idea,” I murmured. “Remember what we said about buildin’ a better connection and a trust between us before we get intimate?”
“Do you trust me?”
“Heaven help me, but yeah, I do.”
“Then trust me not to overstep,” Damien said. “Trust me just to touch your body and give you pleasure.”
“I’m scared,” I admitted. “I wasn’t when we walked in ’ere, but I am now.”
“I know, freckles,” Damien almost purred. “But letting go of that fear for a little while will help you get used to me in this capacity. We’re partners now, and I have to work on getting your guard down, and this moment between us will help. I know it will.”
“O-okay.”
“Good girl.”
I jumped when his hand slid from my waist and came down to my stomach. I froze, wondering if he would say anything about feeling my stomach. I knew I wasn’t fat, but I didn’t look like my friends. I could afford to lose the twenty-five pounds I’d gained over the last couple of years, and I was very aware of that fact with Damien’s hand on me.
“Why are you so tense?”
I hesitated, then remembered our agreement to communicate with one another.
“I’m embarrassed.”
“Because I want to touch you?”
“Because I’m worried you won’t like what you feel.”
I practically felt Damien’s eyes drill a hole into my skull through the darkness.
“You think I won’t like your body?” he questioned incredulously. “You can’t be serious, Alannah.”
I wiggled next to him, but his hand remained firmly on my stomach.
“I’m a little chubby,” I mumbled. “I’ve gained a good bit of weight since we were last together. I’m self-conscious about me stomach, hips, and thighs. Me arse, too.”
“What the hell is wrong with your ass?” Damien demanded. “Or your hips, thighs, and stomach for that matter?”
“They aren’t toned,” I said with a mortified groan. “I have cellulite and little rolls.”
God, this is fucking embarrassing.
“Just to be clear, I love your body,” he said, his thumb slowly stroking my skin. “I’m extremely attracted to it.”
I didn’t mean to laugh, but I did.
“You don’t believe me?”
Before I could answer, Damien felt for my hand, grabbed it, then lifted it into the air before he moved it over something … hard. Something that was very hard and throbbed like there was no tomorrow.
“Oh,” I whispered when I realised what my hand was pressed against.
Damien grunted before moving our hands back to my stomach.
“I dare you to disagree with how much I like your body now,” he challenged. “My cock will disagree with you and so will my mind and heart.”
I was glad of the darkness when a smile broke out across my face, as it burned with heat.
“I can’t help how I feel about me body.”
“No,” he agreed. “But you’ll learn to love it, just as I do.”
“You love me body?”
“Yup,” he said, popping the P. “Head over heels, it’s a great body. Perfect, really.”
I giggled but stopped when the hand on my stomach slid lower and fitted itself under the band of my pyjamas trousers. My heart pounded as Damien gently nudged my thighs apart. A shiver danced its way up my spine when his large, rough hand slid over the inside of my thighs. He squeezed my flesh here and there, making my entire body come alive.
“Damien,” I whispered.
“Lana,” he murmured. “I’m going to make you feel so fucking good.”
My thighs suddenly clenched together and trapped Damien’s hand.
“Oh, you want me to touch you,” he hummed. “I can feel your muscles contracting.”
My body flushed with heat, and my legs slowly parted once again.
“There’s my girl.”
I sucked in a sharp breath when Damien’s thumb ran the length of my underwear. The friction of the fabric against my clit sent shivers up my spine.
“Damien,” I breathed.
He moved his body closer to me.
“Fuck,” he hissed. “I love how you say my name. I’ve been around Irish people a long time, but your accent is the only one that gets me hard when you speak. I love your voice.”
I remembered he had told me he loved my voice once before too, and it caused my body to shudder.
“You’re killin’ me, Dame.”
“I haven’t even warmed up yet, baby.”
The whole time he spoke, he was rubbing a lone finger up and down my slit. It felt good but not good enough. It was almost like he was teasing me by not pushing the fabric aside. With courage that I didn’t know I possessed, I reached down into my pyjama trousers, placed my hand on top of Damien’s, and manoeuvred his fingers to push the fabric of my underwear aside. When his fingers finally brushed my clit, my back arched.
“Yes!”
Damien put his mouth next to my ear and made a sound close to a snarl.
“Demanding little thing,” he said, “aren’t you?”
I moaned in response as he slid a lone finger down to my entrance. He dipped it in, once, twice, then groaned.
“You feel so hot, so wet. I can feel you wrap around my finger … I can’t wait for it to be my cock.”
Me either.
When his finger slid back up to my clit and began to swirl around it slowly but not touching it directly, I began to lose my mind. My body began to writhe from side to side, trying to force Damien’s finger onto my clit with each movement. He leaned his body against me, though, and used his weight to keep me in place as he continued his delicious torture.
“For years,” he murmured into my ear, “I’ve stroked myself and made myself come by just imagining being with you like this.”
My breathing became erratic.
“You have?”
“Hell yeah,” he growled. “I remembered what it was like to touch you, taste you, to feel you wrapped around me so tight. I came hard every single time.”
The thought of watching him touching himself sent another wave of heat through me.
“Is it true?” I suddenly asked. “What you said last week, about not touchin’ or kissin’ anyone since you last touched and kissed me?”
I haven’t touched another woman since I touched you. I haven’t kissed another woman since I kissed you.
“Every word,” Damien answered, his tongue flicking against my earlobe. “You’ve ruined me for any other woman. You’re the only one I ever want to touch again. I told you … you’re my freckles.”
I cried out when his finger finally rubbed my clit.
“Yes!” I screeched. “Yes!”
“Fuck, you’re so hot.”
Lips brushed against my cheek, then not a second later, they covered my own, and just like that, I was lost in Damien’s touch and taste. I loved kissing him. I once pretended that I never enjoyed the kisses I had once shared with him, just so I would never think about them, but kissing him now, I realised what an idiot I was to try to fool myself into thinking they weren’t enjoyable.
They were toe curling.
“Can I taste you?” he asked against my lips. “Please, say yes.”
“You already are.”
“No.” He chuckled, the sound low and rumbling. “Not your mouth, your pussy.”
He slipped his finger inside my pussy just as I clenched over his words, and he growled.
“You want me to,” he mused. “You want my tongue on you.”
“Yes,” I breathed. “Yes, please.”
He moved then, and before I could move, the blanket was pushed to the end of the bed, and my trousers and underwear were pulled down my body and flung God only knows where in the room. Hands pressed against my knees and parted my thighs wide. I jolted with surprised when lips pressed against the inside of my thighs and slowly worked their way upwards. My eyelids fluttered shut when Damien’s hands slid over my body, squeezing my flesh here and there. I moaned softly when he trailed kisses inside my thighs, his teeth nipping my skin every few seconds, making me clench with excitement.
My body bucked of its own accord when I suddenly felt his warm, wet tongue slide over my sensitive folds. I sucked in a sharp breath because I hadn’t felt that sensation since Damien last put his mouth on me all those years ago. When I had sex with Dante, it was just sex—no oral, no kissing. Those acts were too intimate, too special to me, and I realised then that I only wanted to share that kind of connection with Damien.
No one else, just him.
He hummed against me, then licked up and down. He didn’t directly touch my throbbing clit that ached so much I ground my teeth together. I fisted my hands at my side and focused on my breathing. My eyes crossed when he tongued around the hood of my clit, teasing me, drawing long moans from my lips. He moved his attention and skilled tongue to my labia and sucked on my lips before dipping his tongue inside me.
“Damien!”
He sucked on my pussy lips and even scraped his teeth over them, sending a shiver up my spine. He moved his tongue upwards, and finally, I felt hot air on my clit, followed by his talented tongue lapping at it like a man starved.
“Fu…ck … God!”
Damien hooked his arms around my thighs and flattened his hands on my stomach, applying pressure to keep my arse on the mattress. He inhaled a deep breath, then curled his tongue around my clit slowly. It felt so good that it almost hurt, but that didn’t deter me from begging him not to stop. I pulsed with need, and the urge to reach down and fist my hands into Damien’s thick hair became difficult to ignore. My fingers flexed against my bed sheets.
Breathe, I told myself. Just keep breathing.
My body twitched and jerked like a live wire with every swipe and flick of Damien’s tongue. My flesh was flushed with desire, and my skin burned with need. The passion I felt was as intense as it was intoxicating. This brief escape from reality was just what I needed, and Damien was just the man I wanted—no, the man I needed to give it to me.
“Damien,” I pleaded. “Don’t st-stop.”
His hands flexed against my stomach in response.
Jolts of pleasure became more constant then, and with an abundance of attention focused on my clit, my orgasm built at a rapid pace. My breathing suddenly became irregular, and I couldn’t focus on anything except how good I felt. I began to lose myself to Damien’s touch, and I didn’t resist; I threw myself over the edge.
My thighs began to quiver like jelly, so much so that Damien used his hands to grip the insides of my thighs to keep them from knocking against his head as he tongued me. With his hands’ new position, he pushed my legs farther apart, and it pushed my pussy harder against Damien’s mouth. At that moment, I lost my fight against the urge to bury my hands in his hair, and the second I did that, he sucked my clit into his mouth, and my body began to convulse.
I screamed God’s name before I drew in a sharp breath and held it.
For a moment, I felt a split second of numbness before an inexplicable wave of bliss started at my clit and, with each pulse, pushed the sensation outward. My eyes rolled back, my spine arched, and my lips parted in a silent scream. My lungs burned for air, so I exhaled the breath I had been holding before greedily gulping more down. My body continued to jerk uncontrollably, and Damien still sucked and lapped at my now oversensitive clit as if he was trying to pull another orgasm from me.
When I began to whimper, I think he knew that I couldn’t handle any more because he released my clit, placed a chaste kiss on it, then moved up my body. I felt his hands all over me; I felt his lips kissing my thighs, my hips, my stomach, and any other section of skin his lips could reach. By the time he reached my lips, I was halfway asleep, my body completely depleted of energy.
“Good night, freckles.” Damien chuckled, brushing his lips against mine. “Sweet dreams.”
The last thing I was aware of wasn’t Damien beside me or how satisfied I was, it was how content I felt. It seeped deep into my bones and wrapped around me like a warm blanket. I hadn’t felt that way in a very long time, and I prayed there was no end in sight for it.
When I awoke, it wasn’t because my body decided it was ready to, it was because something was digging into my behind that made me uncomfortable. When I opened my eyes, I intended to feel for the object I’d accidentally left on my bed, but the second a soft snore echoed in my ear and someone’s hot breath blew over my neck, I knew it wasn’t an object that dug i
nto me. It was a body part.
The night before came rushing back to me in seconds.
I smiled ridiculously wide as I shifted ever so slightly, and the arm hooked around me tightened. I bit down on my lower lip when a hand flexed around my left breast. I looked down and saw that Damien had put his hand up my pyjama top and grabbed himself a handful of my breast. I resisted the urge to laugh because it felt like such a male thing for him to do, even in his sleep.
He continued to snore, and I was so pleased to find that it wasn’t loud or distracting, but oddly relaxing to hear. I slowly turned to face him, his hand fell away from my breast, but remained around my waist. I swallowed when I realised I was naked from the waist down, and the reason made my stomach tighten. I recalled what Damien did to me the night before, and heat ran through me.
I had only ever had Damien’s mouth on me once before, but last night was the best of the two because I still felt satisfied from the release he quite literally sucked from me. I gnawed on my lower lip as I rested my head on my pillow and stared at his sleeping face. He was stunning, and I couldn’t believe we had spoken and come to the decision that we would date one another. I was still terrified things would end badly between us, but like I had said to Damien the night before, I was so fed up with letting my fear of getting hurt keep me from doing the things I wanted.
I wanted to be brave, just like Damien said I was … and I wanted that braveness to start with giving him a good morning wake-up call.
He was right when he said that small moment of intimacy between us last night would help bring my guard down because I no longer felt entirely apprehensive of Damien touching me in such a way. My body issues still lingered, but I believed Damien when he said he loved my body. I just had to get my mind on the same wavelength as him, so I could love it, too.
With my eyes on his face, I told myself I could do what I was about to do and that Damien would love it. That courage pushed me to lick my palm, then press the back of my hand against his solid chest and run it down his torso. I licked my lips as my knuckles slid over his abs and came to the band of his boxer briefs. I snaked my fingers under the band, and the second I felt his cock, I wrapped my hand around the hardened member and gently squeezed. Damien’s lips parted in his sleep, and he almost whined.