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Before I can ask, Damon reaches down with both hands and draws me to my feet. It’s easy for him—he picks me up like I weigh nothing at all. I glance up at him, our faces inches apart, and then I reach for the hem of the shirt he’s still wearing. Slowly peel it up and off him, to drop it into a pile beside the pants he already shed. He’s naked in front of me now, every inch of his sculpted muscles on perfect display, and I run my hands across his chest, his abs, his hips, unable to believe that I just made this man, this Adonis, nearly drop to his knees in pleasure with my mouth alone.
From the look in his eyes, Damon can’t believe it either. He watches me touch him for a moment in silence, then reaches down and pulls off my shirt as well, slowly and sensuously, not at all like the rough man from earlier who demanded I suck his cock for a deal.
A deal… There’s something else I should be focusing on. Another job I had to do here. It nags at me, but not hard enough to break through the fog when Damon drops my shirt to the floor beside us and unclasps my bra next, letting my breasts spring free. He reaches down to cup them with both hands, his thumbs massaging my nipples in slow circles until they harden under his touch.
“You are so fucking gorgeous,” he whispers, and standing there, before his awed gaze, I feel it, for the first time in a long time.
I step closer to him, let our torsos press together, and feel the white hot heat between us, the burn of his skin against mine. His arms encircle me almost by habit, and then creep down toward my skirt, to push under the waistband and slide down to cup my ass.
Our faces hover just centimeters apart. So close that I can feel his hot breath on my cheek, and catch the scent of him, mingled with mint now. “Tell me the truth,” I murmur. “Did you clean up for me today, Damon Tell?”
“Is that one of your questions?” he asks, eyes snagging mine. Then, without another answer, without waiting for me to respond to that, he leans forward and his lips collide with mine.
We crash into each other. There’s no other word for that kiss—for the way his mouth devours mine, hungry and wanting, and the way I swallow him right back, our tongues tangled and our lips pressed together so hard I can feel my teeth behind them, but I don’t care. He bites my lower lip, just hard enough to make me gasp, and I catch his lip between my teeth next, tease him by rolling it between my teeth.
His arms tighten around me, lift me off the ground, and next thing I know we’re tumbling sideways onto the bed, Damon on top of me, pinning me beneath his strong body, my legs wrapped around his waist as he leans in, mouth still firmly clasped to mine. We part just long enough for him to gaze down at me, a growl in his throat.
“I can taste my cum on your tongue,” he murmurs, a faint grin on his lips. “It’s hot as hell, Ashley Marrón.”
In response, I lean up to kiss him again, and his hands slide between us, just long enough to undo the clasp of my skirt and wriggle it down and off my hips. He tosses it aside, laughing under his breath when he finds that, once again, I’m wearing no panties beneath.
“Quick learner,” he says, his voice appreciative.
“It helps when you have a thing for your teacher,” I point out, grinning. But something about the moment stops him, then. He pauses, leaning over me, gaze sweeping over my body. The same hunger, same lust, is still white-hot in his gaze, but now he’s hesitating, and I don’t know why.
“What is it?” I murmur, when he doesn’t say anything for a moment.
Damon leans back, slowly, and my body aches, physically protesting the lack of his hot warmth against me. “I didn’t meant to do that,” he says, his voice different now, low and soft and filled with regret.
I push myself up to a seated position on my elbows. Then I try and fail to catch his eye. “Do what?”
He runs a hand through his hair. Grips it and tugs a little, his teeth gritted. “You should leave.”
“Leave? Now?”
“This is all getting too messy, and I’m not in control—”
“Tell me what’s going on, Damon? One second you’re demanding I suck your cock for information, the next you’re freaking out and kicking me out of the visitation room—without fulfilling your half of the bargain, I might add.”
“Oh, I’ll give you your damn information, Ashley. If that’s all you care about.”
“I asked what was wrong, and you refused to tell me.”
“Because if you stay, things are going to get worse for you. Way more complicated.”
“So what?” I demand, setting my jaw. “What’s going to happen if I stay, exactly?”
“If you stay, I’m going to do what I really want to do to you.” He finally meets my eye again, and this time, there’s a look there that I’ve never seen before. He looks… angry. But not at me. At himself. “Are you prepared to accept that, Ashley? Are you really as brave as you act like you are?”
I square my shoulders. “I came here to do a job, Damon. I’d do anything for this business—for my father. And unlike you, I finish the jobs I start.”
That blow lands. I watch it happen, watch the flinch in his eyes, and the way he reacts to it, the way his anger fills in the hole I just shot in his armor. “Fine,” he practically snarls. “You want me to finish this job? Be careful what you ask for.” He grabs me, then, and tosses me backwards onto the bed, landing hard on top of me.
He spreads my legs roughly, arching his back so the tip of his cock runs along the length of my slit, from back to front, coating himself in my juices—because, damn him, I’m already wet as hell from sucking his cock earlier.
“Last chance,” he says, glaring down at me. “Tell me to stop. Because if you don’t, I’m going to fuck you right now, Ashley. I’m going to fuck you, raw and real, so hard that you won’t be able to walk out of here in a straight line. And when I’m ready, I’m going to come inside your tight little pussy. Are you ready for that?”
My stomach flips a little. I’ve never heard a guy say it like that, never heard anyone threaten to come inside me so ferociously. Somehow, it’s turning me the fuck on. I’m on birth control at least, so that part doesn’t bother me. Plus, it’s kind of sexy when he says it like that.
So I just spread my legs wider and lift my chin, meeting his dare with one of my own. “Show me what you’ve got, Damon.”
He thrusts into me so hard and fast that I cry out, unable to resist. His cock is thick, thicker than any guy I’ve been with before, and it spreads my pussy wide, making me feel stuffed already. He draws back, thrusts again, and this time I can feel the tip of his cock touch my cervix just barely, his girth stretching my walls. I’ve never felt so fucking full.
In response, I arch my hips up against him. He pulls back and starts to find his rhythm, thrusting deep into me with every thrust.
“You like that, dirty girl? You like feeling a real man’s cock inside you?” He reaches down to grab my breasts, and pinches my nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. I gasp aloud, and he tightens his grip, just hard enough to make it sting a little, to send conflicting messages to my overloading brain—pain and pleasure, ache and ecstasy.
“Fucking give it to me, Damon,” I manage to gasp between thrusts, as he continues to pound into me.
That makes him grin. Without warning, he grips my hips, draws back and out of me—I can’t help it then, I mewl faintly in protest at the sensation of his warm cock leaving my pussy entirely—and flips me over beneath him. I land on all fours, and grip the bed with both hands to hold on as he drives his cock into my pussy from behind.
“God you’re fucking tight,” he groans. I cast a glance over my shoulder and find his eyes glossed, his expression torn between anger and lust. He pushes my head down, buries my face in the pillow, and wraps a fist around my hair as he continues to fuck me, his other hand clamped tight around my hip to hold me in place while he takes what he wants from me.
I’ve never felt so turned on in my life. I’m completely in his control, and we both know it… and I’m fucking loving
it.
He speeds up, then, and I thrust back against him, moving my hips in sync with his. When I clench my pussy, pulling the muscles as tight as I can, he growls against the nape of my neck and bites the skin there lightly, still thrusting into me.
