“Yes.”
That agreement was exactly what I wanted to hear.
I entered her and clung to sanity. She was so fucking wet, warm, and swollen, and she slung her arms around my neck, and we kissed again. I thrust slowly at first, bringing our furious pace down to a slow burn that spread between us.
Our eyes met, and I pressed my forehead to hers, losing track of thought and time. That was what it was like with Hazel. She became the sole focus, a point of light in the dark, and if I wasn’t careful, I’d fall into the trap of wanting her and nothing but her because of it.
I turned her onto her stomach and took her from behind, roughly this time, lifting her ass so she could reach her clit and give herself yet another orgasm, but her fingers shook, and her body shuddered, and she couldn’t stand much more.
“Damien,” she whispered, from a place of throaty, deep satisfaction. She wasn’t calling out to me, just identifying what she’d been missing for years.
“You’re mine, now,” I said, throwing my head back, my hands balling into fists, my forearms braced on the floor.
I brought her onto her side, wrapped my arms around her, and buried my face in her neck, positioning myself for the final few thrusts. The scent of her clogged my nostrils and whited out my brain, and I came inside her throbbing, pressing into her warmth and giving her everything I had.
After, she settled into my arms, her breathing slow, and her eyes drifting closed. I buried my nose in her hair, inhaling the coconut smell, and dropped off the face of the planet with her.
20
Hazel
So, falling asleep on a hardwood floor wasn’t the brightest idea I’d had in recent memory. Then again, neither was agreeing to a weekend of no-strings-attached sex with a man who made my entire earth shake whenever he touched me.
I’d always been the shy girl, nerdy even, and that persona had evaporated around Damien. He brought out my inner sex demon.
Was that a good thing? Demon was the operative word here, so probably not.
I sat up slowly, disentangling myself from Damien’s strong arms, and stretched my neck. Yeah, that kink wasn’t coming out anytime soon.
“What time is it?” I murmured to myself.
Damien’s palm settled on my back, and his thumb traced my spine. The stroking gave me shivers. “I think you mean, what year is it?”
“We kinda dropped off the face of the planet there, didn’t we?”
“Pretty much,” he replied and brought himself into a sitting position. He wrapped his arms around my body, warming me against his muscular chest, and peppered my neck with kisses. “I’d like to remind you that you started it.”
The kisses were a little too romantic. A little too sweet. I jumped up and grabbed my blouse off the floor.
“Freaking out again, I see.”
I slued toward him, holding my silken blouse to my breasts. “I’m not freaking out.”
“You’re totally freaking out. Your eyes are bugging out.”
“My eyes are fine.” But I blinked several times just in case he was right. “This is just… it’s not me.”
“What?”
“One-night stands. Flings. Whatever. It’s not my thing.”
“You prefer to live in a sex desert, then?”
“No,” I said and searched around for my underwear. Of course, he’d ripped them off me. “No,” I repeated, and grabbed my skirt instead. “I get plenty.” Lies.
“Plenty of sleep?”
“I will slap you if you keep kidding around.” I pointed my skirt at him. “At least, verbally. I’m anti-violence.”
“And I’m anti-you getting dressed. Come lie on the bed with me.” Damien stood up and revealed his thick cock, already glistening at the tip for me.
“You’re a monster.”
“I’m attracted to you.” He placed his fists on his hip and thrust his pelvis forward, offering me one of his shit-eating grins. His dick throbbed for effect, bouncing up and down. “See?”
I chewed on my bottom lip, clutching my crumpled skirt and blouse to my body, and studying him in all his glory.
Later afternoon light seeped through the curtains, a shaded orange that warmed the room and cast shadows on the contours of his muscles, his neck, one side of his face. His abs shimmered like he’d been doused in oil, and the tattoos that arced over one shoulder and down his arm drew my gaze.
What was it with me and bad boys? Or just this bad boy in particular.
My one and only ex had been as much of a bad boy as a soccer mom.
“I hope you’re not leaving,” Damien said. “We don’t have to fuck.”
“No, no, we’re not going to fuck. There has to be some control to this weekend. I mean, how can I do this when you… you’re paying me. What does that make me?” I dropped my skirt again, opting to pull on my blouse. I buttoned myself up, and Damien’s cock wilted ever so slightly. The skirt came on next, and a corresponding nod from his dick followed.
“It makes you human,” he said. “And mine.”
“Ew.”
“Not like that. Not like hooker-mine. Just in general, mine. Mine for the weekend,” Damien said and strutted toward me. He cupped my cheek in a hand. “You forget that this agreement is for thirty days. A month. What’s one weekend in the grand scheme of things?”
“Whorey?”
“Inconsequential.”
Like I had been to him. Inconsequential. Damien’s apology had helped me get over my latent anger toward him, but I was still wary. I wasn’t a dumbass. The man could get any woman he wanted, whenever he wanted, and I was just an option.
Did that mean I wasn’t going to fuck him until I was sore? No, that was definitely happening, but it was just because I wanted to prove that I could have Damien and then… well, I could walk away from him.
And, god damn, he was good at it.
“Don’t leave,” he said. “We don’t have to fuck. We don’t have to do anything you
