I swallowed thickly, still panting as he hammered home. “I can’t normally…when you’re inside me, it’s hard for me to….”
“You can,” Damon grunted. “You can. Just feel, Rose.”
I closed my eyes for a second, clearing all thoughts from my mind as I focused on the sensation of him filling me, of his fingers teasing at my nerve endings, coaxing me to a most heavenly pleasure.
“Your eyes, petal, open them,” he begged me.
I opened my eyes, immediately losing myself in a sea of deepest brown. And that was how we stayed for the longest time, our bodies moving together, our gazes locked. Damon alternated between slow lovemaking and fast, hard fucking. His need for me was evident in every single thrust. It felt like he could go all night, like he enjoyed the feel of being joined with me far more than the orgasm he chased.
I felt how incredibly wet I was when his thumb pressed hard on my clit. It was that intense pressure that sent me over the edge, and I came more fiercely than ever before. Damon’s movements stilled, his eyes finally closing as my sex convulsed around him.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” he swore, as though unable to handle how good it felt.
I couldn’t speak, far too exhausted from such an acutely intense orgasm. It felt like I’d been waiting for it my entire life. Damon bent to kiss me, and I was open to him in every way. I was soft and pliant beneath him, would have let him do anything in the world to me right then. He started to move again, and when he did, the sensation was intensified. I was tender after having just come, so the push and pull of his cock was unbearably pleasurable.
His lips were still on mine, our tongues tangled in an erotic dance, when his movements grew more frenzied. He thrust into me hard and fast, letting out the most sensual yet masculine sound as he came. I felt his wet heat fill me, my thighs clenching around his hips as he emptied himself. I purred at him, whispered incomprehensible, sweet little nothings as I sucked his bottom lip into my mouth.
Damon fell onto his side, pulling me with him as he dragged the covers over our sweaty, sex-soaked bodies. I curled into him, nestling my face in the crook of his neck as he placed a kiss to my temple.
“You feel like heaven,” he said when we each finally caught our breaths. “And you taste like honey.”
I let out a quiet, tender laugh and snuggled closer, savouring his heat. “Heaven and honey, I can live with that,” I teased, and he palmed my breast, pinching the nipple as though in reprimand.
After that we just lay there, letting our exhaustion pull us under.
I woke in the middle of the night, still wrapped up in Damon, his scent and his warmth surrounding me. He was right about us being together feeling like heaven, because this was certainly as close as I’d ever gotten to a celestial experience. I ran my hands through his hair, and he stirred a little but didn’t wake. His breathing was deep and even.
Staring at his beautifully masculine profile in slumber, I wondered if I hadn’t already fallen for this man a long time ago, long before we’d ever known the sublime union of each other’s bodies.
Twenty-Three.
*Damon*
I woke to sunlight and an empty bed. My sheets smelled of Rose, still carried the lingering warmth of her body as I ran my hands over the soft cotton. She hadn’t been gone long. I could hear music playing from the kitchen as someone moved about, the clink of plates and utensils amid what sounded like “Across the Universe” by The Beatles.
Getting out of bed, I threw on some clothes and went to find the woman I’d spent last night making love to. There was a pressure right in the centre of my chest, a sense of urgency that was at the same time pleasant. It was the feeling of finally having my heart’s desire mixed with the panic of being apart from her, even if we were only separated by a room.
It was a frantic sort of fulfilment. Everything was too new, too fresh, for me to feel at peace. Some old, forgotten instinct had me wanting to drag her back to my bed so I could sink inside her again and again.