It wasn’t like I hadn’t gotten over him before. I could do it again.
And all it takes for you to do a 180 is a bit of attention from him. Lame.
I pushed out of Damien’s arms and walked up the stairs, swaying my ass, trying not to trip over my heels. I had to get it together before I lost everything. Rational thought dictated that I did not have enough money to put my father and sister up anywhere or to fix the house.
Whether I liked it or not, I needed Damien just as much as he needed me. Integrity had gone out of the window the minute I’d penned my name on the dotted line, so what was I hanging onto here? Some memory of the person I’d wanted to become. She’d died the minute the café had been sold. She’d died along with her mother.
I reached my bedroom and opened the door, clicked on the lights. The king-sized bed beckoned, white sheets pristine, pillows puffy.
Let go. Let him in.
Had I gone mad? To flip-flop like this wasn’t like me but… it was him. I kept wanting to be around him, hear his voice, smell his cologne, and my willpower wavered. We’d had sex for an entire weekend. It wasn’t fair.
“What do you want, Hazel?” Damien stood in the doorway to my room, his shirt halfway open, now, and his pecs and incredible abs on display. His gaze was lidded, his chest rising and falling rapidly.
I slipped my fingers under the silken straps of my dress and removed them from my shoulders. “Come in and close the door.”
Damien entered and kicked it shut behind him. He circled me like a predator. “You do this, and I’m going to fuck you raw, Hazel. Every day and every night. That what you want?”
I let the dress fall to my ankles. “Is the door locked?”
“Does it need to be?” He continued circling. “You afraid someone might walk in on us?”
“Obviously.”
He chuckled and went to turn the key. “All or nothing,” he said.
“I want it all,” I whispered, shaking.
Damien crossed the room in broad strides. He palmed my breasts, pressed his fingers into my pussy, and fingered me on the spot, bringing thrills of pleasure that I’d barely had a millisecond to anticipate. I cried out, and he silenced me with a kiss, his tongue hot and insistent.
“Come for me,” he said, into my mouth. “Come for me, right now.”
And my body obeyed. I closed around his fingers, losing grip on him and the world. He held me upright, sucking on my bottom lip, biting, then carried me backward and practically threw me onto the bed.
He ripped his shirt open, buttons pinging in every direction, then unzipped his pants and kicked them away. He was completely naked, and it had to be one of my favorite ways to see him. Naked, his tattoos arcing over one shoulder, his dark, coffee-colored eyes sweeping over me. His cock throbbed, moisture gathering at the tip.
Damien lowered himself to the bed and blew on my pussy, gently. I pulled at the sheets, arching backward, pushing myself up and away, but he grabbed me and dragged me back down.
He buried his face between my legs and gave me the same treatment I’d gotten just two days prior. My second climax was stronger than the first, exhausting, but I wanted more. One weekend hadn’t been enough, and there was something about Damien—I didn’t ever want him to stop when we were together.
It was the only part of him I could get without him shutting down completely.
Damien licked a path up my body and sucked one nipple into my mouth, then the other, massaging and squeezing, bringing waves of desire that shouldn’t have been possible after two mind-blowing orgasms.
He didn’t ask if I was ready this time. He already had the answer in my moans and gasps and silent pleas.
“I’m yours for the next month,” he said, placing his dick at my entrance. “Happy?”
“Yes,” I hissed.
He thrust inside me, one sharp, swift pump that sent me into palpitations. I slapped my hands onto his shoulders, dug my fingernails into his skin.
“Oh my god.”
Damien pressed into me, working us into a rhythm that was slow and lustful. It was the type of sex that was supposed to be enjoyed—a slower pace. We didn’t have to rush to climax, and he wanted me to come again. His eyes said it all. He toyed with my hair, grasped my face, kissed me gently, touching me everywhere.
I shut my eyes and let the sensations wash over me.
Damien turned me onto my side and bit down on my neck, pumping a little quicker, his dick so hard and thick that it started hurting a little. But he didn’t stop, didn’t come, and his fingers found my clit.
I was incredibly sensitive from the last two times, but I didn’t want him to stop. He played me with gently at first, then insistently, and I grabbed a pillow and pressed it over my face to mask the screams from my third orgasm.
My legs and arms trembled, and my body went limp and weak.
“Don’t give up on me yet, gorgeous.” Damien slipped out of me, giving me a break from the onslaught of pleasure. “I told you, I’m yours for thirty days. Shit, maybe you didn’t know what you were getting yourself into. I’m not going to stop until you’ve come so many times you can’t remember your own name.”
“I’m almost there already,” I stammered.
There was nothing sexier than the laugh that came next. Maybe the sex was this good because I’d been crazy jealous at the sight of him with another woman?
“You’re going to come on my face,” he said. “And I’m going
