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“I’m fine,” I whimper, my sex getting so wet I’m worried it’s going to start dripping down my thighs. “Keep going, Damian—”
The beast doesn’t need any further encouragement, his cock becoming a hammer as it drives in and out of my mouth.
All I can do is keep my mouth open wide and gaspingly take as much of him as I’m able, fighting off the urge to cough when his engorged head smacks into the back of my throat.
He doesn’t get the whole thing in.
There’s no way he could, it’s so huge.
But that doesn’t seem to matter as he keeps thrusting, as I grab onto the hard muscles of his hips and move my head in time with his thrusts, sucking him as he fucks my mouth, over and over.
“I need to see those tits,” he gasps. “Get—them—out. Now. Do what you’re told, Popstar.”
I grab the dress and yank it down, freeing my bra, and then I pull it down and let my breasts spill free.
The hunger in his eyes explodes anew and he grabs my shoulders, throwing me onto the bed and then positioning me with eager hands so that I’m in the right place.
He leans down and grabs my breasts, pushing them on either side of his enraged hot wet cock, fucking my breasts faster each second, pumping his hips.
“In my mouth,” I gasp, letting the moment guide me.
It’s impossible to feel silly or disgusting or any of that self-hating crap in a moment like this when Damian is obsessed with me when I’m the only person who even exists to him.
I bend down and open my mouth so that his tip can reach it as he fucks my breasts.
“You—dirty—fuck—fuck …”
I catch his tip and he holds it there, growling as he fires his hot load into the back of my throat.
I choke and cough and then swallow, the tanginess of it nowhere near as off-putting as I always assumed it would be.
The saltiness of it dances around my mouth as I swallow more and more, and then he stumbles back, heaving in savage breaths.
“Fucking hell,” he mutters.
“Did I …”
“Quiet,” he commands. “You’re perfect, Popstar. And after a performance like that, it’s time you started fucking believing it.”
I’m ready, I almost blurt out.
It’s the truth.
Or does it just feel like the truth because I’m on a high after what we just did?
Maybe I should wait until after dinner, when I’ve calmed down, to consult the lust angels inside of me and see if they’re ready to spread their wings.
Chapter Nineteen
Damian
We sit on the balcony around the restaurant table, the glass cloudy with zigs and zags of expressive white darting here and there. The glasses are crystal and shiny and even the vase is the same glassy creaminess of the table, the stems of the roses partially visible through it. Sparky is asleep just beyond the glass door, curled up, eyes closed contentedly.
I look across at Dakota, her hair luscious and wavy down to her shoulders, her sexy-as-fuck face brushed here and there with subtle strokes of makeup, which only serve to enhance her natural features not create features from nothing. Her breasts draw me in, my cock giving a twitch when I remember how voluptuous they felt wrapped around my greedy cock.
She studies the menu, biting her lip in a way that drives me feral.
“It’s been a crazy couple of days,” she murmurs.
“The craziest,” I agree.
“It’s kind of made me want to devour a big juicy steak with some fries and onion rings.”
“That sounds delicious,” I agree.
“But I …” She trails off, her expression hardening, pouting her lips for a moment. “You know what? No.”
“No?” I ask, laughing a little at her sudden seriousness.
“I mean it,” she goes on. “I was about to go on this whole speech about how I should get a salad. But I guess being with you is starting to rub off on me, Damian, because I don’t want a salad and I don’t want to talk about getting a salad.”
“Good, then don’t get the goddamn salad,” I say passionately, recognizing that this is a big moment for her.
“Then I’ll have the steak, medium-rare,” she declares with a laugh.
“Good,” I grin predatorily. “I was thinking just the same. Except I like mine rare and bloody. I’m glad you chose something thick enough to keep those steakish thighs of yours nice and juicy.”
“Steakish?” she giggles. “Did you just make up a word?”
“You know what? I think I did.”
She smiles gorgeously at me, and then gestures around the balcony, although balcony undersells what is essentially an enclosed private paradise. The floors are heated and glass protects us from the lashing winds of winter this high from ground level. The night sky is right there for the taking, a bare touch away, and yet the only starlight that truly thunders into me is that in my queen’s eyes.
