Damien has always understood that need in me to find control in the pain. To use it to center myself. To calm the storm that would otherwise blow wild inside me.
I need to surrender. To let him walk me down that line between pleasure and pain, and take us both into ecstasy.
For a moment, he just looks at me. Then he makes a circular motion with his finger. “Turn around,” he says. “Hands on the counter, and bend forward.”
My pulse kicks up, and I hurry to comply. He’s wearing fleece athletic pants tied loosely around his waist and nothing else, and as he steps behind me, I feel the material brush against my bare legs beneath my silk sleep shorts.
I also feel his erection pressing against my ass, and my body tightens with both desire and anticipation. Slowly, his hands trail up my thighs, then equally slowly, he hooks his thumbs in the waistband of my shorts and eases them down. I start to step out of them, but he swats my ass with one quick motion. “No,” he says. “You don’t move unless I tell you to.”
I resist the urge to nod, but my lips curve into a smile. Since my back is to him, I figure that’s okay. Right now, he can’t see my face.
His fingertips dance along the curve of my rear, a slow torment that is not quite a caress and not quite a tickle. “Is this what you need?” he muses as his palm stings my rear. I bite my lip, not in pain, but so that I won’t cry out that yes, yes, that is exactly what I need. That sharp impact, those brilliant red sparks. The sting that spreads out, filling me up before fading into a warm, soothing glow.
“Or maybe this,” Damien suggests, running his fingertip down my crack and teasing my ass with his thumb while his fingers tease my core, but never enter me. “Should I take you like this? Hard and fast and with no warning?”
I whimper, and it takes all my effort not to gyrate my hips in a silent plea, because he’s right there, and I want to feel him inside me. In that moment, it feels as though I might shrivel up and die if he doesn’t just get down to it and fuck me right now.
“Or maybe both,” he says, his words adding a new thrill even as I mourn the removal of his hand from between my legs.
“Spread your legs,” he orders, backing away from me. I comply, and the cool air on my wet sex is so delicious that I moan a bit. He’s no longer right behind me, and it’s all I can do to resist the urge to turn around. I hear a drawer open and close, and then I feel something cool and flat against my bare skin. A spatula, I think. Or maybe a serving spoon.
“I’m going to turn your ass red,” he whispers, and just the words alone make my cunt throb with wicked anticipation. He’s bent over my back so that his lips are by my ear. He’s taken off the sweat pants, and his erection is nestled between my legs, the slight friction as he moves freeing a wanton desire to curl through me.
His palm rubs my ass, and then the flat thing smacks against me, and I cry out in surprise more than pain. He soothes my rear with his palm, and I bite my lip, waiting for a second blow. And when this one comes, the sting is real and biting and so damn wonderful I feel as though it is swallowing me, wrapping me up in shooting stars, with Damien right there to grab me and lead me home.
“Baby,” he murmurs as he slips his hand between my legs, his fingers slipping inside as he lands another blow. I cry out, my body clenching tight around his hand. “Nikki, god, Nikki. The way you respond to me. Do you know? Do you really understand? Everything I have. Everything I am, pales in comparison to the way I feel about you.
“I love you, baby,” he continues as he tosses the spatula aside to clatter on the ground beside me, as he spreads my legs and thrusts hard inside me. “Anything you need. Anything you want. You will always have it. Forever, baby. I’m yours forever, and then some.”
I feel my cheeks warm with tears even as my body spirals up and up. He’s silent now, his body slamming over and over into mine. Possessing me. Claiming me. And, finally, destroying me in the sweetest way possible.
I break apart in his arms at the same time that he climaxes, and he clings to me, holding me tight, putting me back together, and leading me back to reality in his arms.
We slide to the floor together, and he holds me gently, then brushes a kiss over my temple.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, as I curl up next to him on the cold tile floor. “But thank you.”
“Oh, baby, you know better than that. Don’t ever be sorry for what you need.”
“I don’t like feeling afraid. Feeling weak.”
“It’s not a weakness to need someone. If it were, I would be the weakest man on this earth, because I need you more than I can ever say.”
I look up at him through tear-filled eyes, and the gentleness of his smile smooths away the last of my rough edges. I nod slowly, in understanding and agreement.
“And as for being afraid, there’s nothing wrong with that. What matters is how you handle it.”
I quirk my mouth. “Right now, the running away option seems reasonable. Forget the proposal. Never see Dallas again.”