Hailey
Damien wasn’t stopping. Not that I wanted him to. But-fuck-he was a beast. Feasting on me like he’d been starved for days. Maybe years.
By now, my skin was covered in his marks, my pussy ached with every orgasm, and my heartbeat pounded wildly against my ribs. My breath came in short, desperate gasps. I’d lost track of how many times he’d changed positions, how many ways he’d taken me. But now, we were back in missionary, my fingers gripping the headboard, my body bouncing with each punishing thrust.
He drove into me hard, relentless. Hitting places I never imagined could go this deep.
Like he’d promised-he was going to take me as far as my pussy would let him. And his cock with diving deep into my with each powerful thrust.
And fuck, some of these thrusts-I could feel them in my stomach. Was that even normal?
“Fuck, Bunny,” he growled, gripping my jaw, his lips crashing down onto mine. He bit my bottom lip, rolling it between his teeth, pulling a whimper straight from my throat. His voice was dark, dangerous. “I can’t stop thinking about how many more times I can make this cunt shatter around me.”
Another orgasm coiled deep in my core, ready to snap.
I’d already come five times.
How did I know? Because he made me fucking count.
And him? God. He hadn’t shattered once.
He kept breaking me, over and over, without a single pause.
Either there was something wrong with me, or Damien was something far beyond human. I didn’t know. And with his cock buried deep inside me, stretching me, wrecking me, I didn’t have the mindset to think.
All I knew was that it felt good. Too fucking good.
Every inch of me burned.
And Damien-Damien felt like sin itself.
I couldn’t stop touching him. My nails raked down his back, my hips rolling to meet every thrust, desperate for more.
“You feel too fucking good, Bunny,” he growled, his voice vibrating through my chest, brushing against my hardened nipples, sending shivers rippling down my spine.
I panted against his lips, barely able to form words between his kisses. “I want to see you-”
His teeth sank into my bottom lip before he released it, smirking against my mouth.
“Come,” I begged.
A dark chuckle rumbled from his throat, deep and knowing. Then, in a swift motion, he pinned my wrists above my head, his grip firm, possessive. He ground his hips forward, dragging against my clit with every thrust.
I shattered.
My back arched, my fingers curling into fists as white-hot pleasure consumed me. My vision blurred-blacked out for a moment-as my body convulsed, my walls pulsing, clenching, milking his cock that was buried deep inside of me.
Six-my mind counted on its own.
And then, with a final, punishing thrust, Damien buried himself deep, pressing his nose against my neck as a rough, heavy breath escaped him. His muscles tensed, his body shaking as he finally came inside me.
He lingered there for a moment, his breath hot against my skin.
Then, after what felt like eternity, he rolled off me, tearing the condom away.
I lay there, catching my breath, my limbs useless.
But as soon as I could move, I sat up, ready to leave.
He’d told me before-it wasn’t flowers and candles with him. I didn’t need the extra confirmation that there wouldn’t be anything remotely romantic after sex. I’d prepared myself for it. Braced for it.
But it still hurt.
So when I felt his grip tighten around my wrist, I didn’t look at him. My gaze stayed locked on the door, my teeth sinking into the inside of my cheek. I just wanted to leave.
I didn’t know why.
The experience with him had been beautiful-undeniably so. But lingering now would only push my hopes further, and I couldn’t afford that. If he told me to get the fuck out, I wasn’t sure I’d recover.
God. I should’ve known better.
I wasn’t built for casual fucks, and yet, I’d done it anyway.
“I’m tired, Damien,” I whispered, giving a gentle tug against his hold, refusing to meet his gaze. “I’ll just go to my room and sleep.”
Please let me go…
“As far as I can see, I have a perfectly comfortable bed right here,” he said, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade.
Before I could process his words, he pulled me back, dragging me against him, into the sheets.
He rolled me beneath him, his arms caging me in, his hands braced on either side of my head. His eyes burned into mine, past the surface, past my walls-straight into my fucking soul.
“You’re staying in my room.”
Not a question. Not a request.
An order.
I blinked up at him, my throat tightening.
Why did I feel like crying? Was I really this fucking pathetic?
“You might be uncomfortable,” I tried to reason, my voice small. “I take up a lot of space when I sleep.”
A slow smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, and then he leaned in, brushing a lingering kiss at the corner of my mouth.
“We’ll see about that,” he murmured against my skin.
“I’m telling the truth.”
“Yeah,” he shrugged. “And I don’t recall saying I didn’t believe you.” Before I could respond, he rolled off me and pulled me into his arms, securing me there like I belonged, “Now sleep,” he muttered, tucking me closer. “I’ll manage however much space this little body of yours takes.”
Usually, a comment like that would annoy me.
But right now, it didn’t.
Right now, it made me smile.
The ice inside me cracked, melted. Slowly, cautiously, I wrapped my arms around him, feeling his warmth seep into my bones. As the sheets settled over us, he shifted, getting comfortable, and then-just as my breath steadied-his lips brushed against my temple. A soft, barely-there kiss.
That single gesture shattered every doubt.
I buried my face into his neck, my body going slack, surrendering.
Maybe-just for tonight-I wouldn’t have to be on guard.
Maybe-just for tonight-I’d sleep knowing I was safe.
And then, wrapped in the devil’s arms, sleep pulled me under.